DISCLAIMER: DON'T OWN THE HOLLOWS.
Okay, I'm not sure how many of you have re-read the previous chapter. I had accidently posted the rough draft and yeah. If you haven't, go back to that chapter; it explains there.
And if you already had, enjoy!
TPOV
Rachel and I were deep in my forest, laying on our backs on the grass and holding hands. We stared at the darkening sky and the stars beginning to show. I didn't recall how we had gotten here, whether by horses or just us simply walking. I turned my head in search for Tulpa, but he wasn't with us. Red either. Huh, maybe we walked here. Turning my head to the side to see Rachel, I raised our combined hands to me, and kissed her knuckles. She looked at me, smiling.
"Trent?" she questioned, bringing our hands to hers and leaving a peck on my palm. Releasing my grip on her fingers, I shifted my arm under her head. Sighing, her attention went back to the stars while mine's stayed on her. After what felt like an hour, she rolled on her side and lifted her head onto my chest. Her red curls tickled my neck.
"Rachel?" I whispered in case she had fallen asleep.
"Yes?" she answered just as softly.
"Oh, I thought you were sleeping." I tucked the arm not under her under my head.
She cuddled into my side, saying, "I was close, but your voice brought me back."
Wrapping my arm that was under her around her waist, I pulled her closer to me. "Sorry."
She mmm'd a sleepy reply. For the next ten minutes or so, I held Rachel as she drifted to a sound sleep. The sound of crickets and birds was soothing. I continued staring at the black sky, studying the occasional dark cloud. A breeze blew, feeling fresh on my skin, but I think it was a bit too cold for Rachel as she hugged me tighter. I rubbed my hand on her arm, trying to warm her up the best I could.
The snap of a twig breaking was loud, jerking me to sit. Rachel was on her feet in an instant, reminding me that she was a real light sleeper. She was crouching, looking around us. I gained my feet quickly, putting my back against hers. The feel of her tapping a line zinged through me, and I tapped one as well.
"Trenton," a deep voice rang out, shocking me. I haven't heard that voice since I was fifteen. I rose from my own crouch, squinting at the forest before me, trying to see through the thick trunks of many trees, trying to find him. A familiar figure came out from the corner of my vision. My mouth hung open, and I stared at the man who had begun walking towards me.
Rachel turned around, swearing under her breath. I sensed her moving to stand beside me, but my eyes never shifted from the man I had thought had been dead for nearly the last fifteen years. "Uhh, Trent," Rachel whispered into me ear. "Is that your dad?"
"It looks like him." I whispered back, hoping she hadn't heard my voice shaking. I had.
Taking a breath, Rachel said into my ear, "I thought he was pushing up daisies."
"Uh-huh." I breathed. My father in question was still making his way to us with a fast pace. The scent of woods and paper filled me. This man certainly smelled like my farther. "Father?" I called out to the man when he was ten feet away.
He reclined his head, an air of importance surrounding him, just like he always had. "Trenton. Rachel."
I heard Rachel gasp, then felt her move to stand half ways behind me. "Mr. Kalamack." she mumbled, her breath warm against my neck.
"Trenton, I need to have a word with you." It sounded more of a command, than a suggestion.
"Of course," I said and walked to him.
When I reached him, I wasn't sure if I should give him a hug, or handshake, or a pat on the back. He didn't move closer as I stopped inches from him, just placed a hand on my shoulder and turned his back on Rachel. Together, we walked a few paces away from her. I looked back to see that she had sat back down on the grass, her back to us to give us privacy. I returned my attention to my father when he pinched my shoulder.
His lightly wrinkled face was filled with disappointment and anger. "What is Monty's daughter to you, Trenton?"
Surprised, I stared at him, my eyebrows high. "Ummm, she's the godmother of my daughters. And she's my friend."
"And that's all she'll be to you?" he asked, seeming doubtful.
"Yes." I couldn't help the regret that crept into my voice.
His eye twitched. "Are you sure?"
My hand lifted to smooth my hair in an act of nervousness. "Absolutely. I know my duties."
"Well, best to be safe than sorry." And with that, he turned on a heel and went to Rachel.
"Father?" I questioned, going after him. Best to be safe than sorry?
He stopped, glancing at me from over his shoulder. "As it was discussed when you were a child, you are to marry Ms. Withon. I do not wish Rachel to remain alive as she might persuade you otherwise." Picking up his speed, he walked to her unsuspecting form.
"Rachel!" I ran past him to put myself between Rachel and him. Rachel tilted her head back, meeting my face with curiosity. Tilting it back further, she looked at my father, who stood frozen a few feet from me.
"Move, Trenton." he ordered with a iron hard voice.
"No." I whispered, planting myself more firmly in front of Rachel. She was paying us no mind, just staring, fascinated, at the night sky.
Shocked, he blinked several times, as if trying to understand what I had told him. I'd never told him, 'no'. "Now." he said again.
I shook my head no, saying, "Rachel means a lot me. You will not kill her."
"Stand aside."
"No."
Grimacing, Father lowered himself to a crouch. I mirrored his position. "Move, Trenton!" he hissed. "I don't care how much you love her; I will kill her!"
And with that, I leaped at him, planning on only blocking him from coming closer to Rachel. He had other ideas, dropping onto his back and using his feet to fling me over his head. I landed on my arm, pain snaking up my shoulder. The sounds of flesh meeting flesh was loud in the quiet forest, almost like thunder. I sat up, watching as Rachel and my father fought. He kept making a grab for her neck, but she continued to smack his reaching fists to the side. Changing tactics, he began ducking her hits, and got a grip on her ankle.
Lifting her foot to his stomach, he landed a kick to her other leg. She grunted and landed on her rear. I stood up, going to them, not seeing the blue and red ball of ever after. It smacked into my chest, throwing me back a few feet. Taking advantage of the fact that he had let her foot go to throw me that ball of energy, Rachel used her arms to spin her body over, gaining her feet and taking my father's right from under him. He landed with a groan.
Rachel ran to me, grabbing me hand and pulling me up. I clenched my side, feeling like a rib had broken. Damn it. An echoing slap brought my head up. My father had slapped Rachel. Maybe because she had knocked him on his ass. From the anger and hate glowing in his green eyes, I could tell that his intent to kill Rachel, that not even five minutes ago had stemmed from only a political gain for me and the elven population, was now personal. When I reached for him, he took my wrist and threw me over his shoulder. The ground was hard on my back, taking my breath from my lungs.
I rolled on my hands and lifted myself to my feet. Panic hit me like a brick wall, watching my father sit on Rachel's stomach, his knees holding her arms as his fingers squeezed at her neck. I tackled him in an attempt to knock him away from her. But instead, we all just rolled on our sides, my father's grip on Rachel never faltering. Her lips were blue, her eyes were bloodshot, her skin was beginning to pale, and her face was swollen. Twisting, I got atop my father, wrapping an arm around his neck. I pulled with all my strength, but all that happened was him snapping his head back and into my jaw. The pain vibrated up my skull. I gasped, and forced myself between Rachel and him. My hands on her shoulders, I pushed my back against my father, having more success. The legs he had over her fell away, and I eased myself there.
I let go of her shoulders, moving them to his fingers, prying them off her. Rachel took a much needed breath when he released his hold. I mimicked him as he made another grab for her, and jerked my head back and into his nose. Yelping, my father rolled away from us. I hopped to my feet, crouching in front of Rachel. Her chest was rising and falling quickly. I turned to my father, seeing a fist coming my way. Too late to move now. My father's fist smashed into my cheek. My head snapped to the side from the force. I stuck an elbow out, catching myself.
Rachel's scream had me on my feet and racing to her. But I was too late.
My father was on a knee with Rachel's back to his front. An arm of his was around her waist, holding her to him. His other arm was across her chest. The knife he had pressed against her neck glinted in the faint light the stars gave. With a quick movement, he opened her neck and her blood gushed out.
"No!" I screamed, running to them.
Before I reached them, he let her go, dropping her on the grass like trash. I got on my knees beside her and covered her gash with my hands. She stared at me with wet eyes, her tears falling down her temples and into her hair. She gasped for air as her hands grabbed a hold of my wrists. My eyes were burning; my heart was breaking.
"No, no, no, no, no." I whispered as her eyes began to close. I wrapped my arms around her and lifted her from the dew-wet grass. Her eyes closed shut, and my tears spilled over. "No, no, no, no. " I buried my face into her bloody chest, hoping to feel her heart beating beneath my nose. Maybe she just passed out. But I wasn't so lucky. There was no pounding under my nose.
I stayed holding Rachel's body to me for minutes, rocking us slowly, not believing she was gone. This was Rachel; no can kill her. Ku'Sox couldn't. Eloy couldn't. The Coven of Moral and Ethical Standards couldn't. Jonathon couldn't. Mia and her baby couldn't. Tom Bansen and his pathetic followers couldn't. The weres from Machinaw couldn't. Lee couldn't. Piscary couldn't. Algaliarept couldn't. An IS death threat couldn't. I couldn't. What made my father different. Hatred boiled in my veins as I heard him step closer to me. If I wasn't cradling Rachel to me, I'd've jumped at him. But I couldn't let her go. She'd held others as they died; it was only fair that she, too, was held.
"Trenton," he said softly with regret. I shied away from the hand that touched my shoulder. "I know that she meant an awful lot to you, but it's best that she not be a part of your life. She'll only confuse you further."
I looked up at him kneeling before Rachel and me, glaring. "All you had to do was tell me it was either she dies, or I stop speaking to her. There was no need for you to k-" My voice broke off as a sob shook me.
With pity shining his eyes, he replied, "You may have stayed away from her, but once she got into a relationship, you would have forced your way back into her life."
I turned back to her white face. "No, I wouldn't have." But he knew I was lying.
I heard him sigh, but didn't hear what he was going to say because something began to shake me. Startled, I held Rachel tighter to my chest.
With a more violent shake on my shoulder, I sputtered awake, looking up at Quen, who towered over me with a fearful look. Disoriented, I glanced around me, finding myself sitting on my couch. I must have drifted to sleep.
"How long have I slept?" I asked him, wiping away a few tears.
"Around ten minutes, Sa'han. I'm not so sure." The fearful expression was lost behind a disapproving look. "You can't sleep, Trenton, if it puts Rachel in danger."
Yawning, I scooted to the edge of the couch and reached for my now-cold cup of tea. I took a sip, grimacing. I needed to ask Rachel to teach me that little charm of hers to warm up water. "It's alright, Quen," I told the older elf. "I only dreamt of my father . . ." Time seemed to freeze as I remembered my dream of my father killing Rachel.
Before Quen could question my obvious panic, I raced to the kitchen where I'd left my scrying mirror. I picked it up from the counter, and placed my fingers atop the right symbols. Fearing the worst, I called her. But upon recalling that she didn't have it on her, I called her demon teacher.
APOV
Gathering another huge ball of raw line energy into his palms, Algaliarept placed them on Rachel's chest, over her silent heart. Dali stood at his elbow, the crystal bottle that contained Rachel's soul in his tight grip and held his breath. Al gritted his teeth to the coming burn and pushed the energy into her, shocking her like a defibrillator would. It was the demons' equivalent that was not used often. Partly because demons were cowards to extreme pain, and partly because if a demon were to die, it was unlikely to bring them back. The two demons performing the "procedure" ( because it had to be two) would have to capture the soul into a bottle immediately after the heart stopped, while the other pushed the ley line energy into the dead heart in hopes of restarting it. When, or if, the heart began to beat with the push of the energy, the demon holding the soul would delicately put it back.
Of course that was a whole lot harder than it sounded. Al and Dali had been doing this for what seemed like hours, but was actually just minutes. The moment Al had found his student dead, he had summoned Dali into his bedroom, knowing that if he were to call Newt, she'd probably just steal away his student's soul and try to sell it back to him. Dali had been furious up until he saw the younger demon pushing energy into the much younger demon, Rachel; the bottled soul laying innocently beside her head. Now, he waited. They both did.
When Al ran out of the energy in his fingers, he lifted his hands slightly, pulling from the line. The energy was fire on his bare skin, but it would be worth the pain if his student survived. He didn't want to go through losing her again. He didn't think he could go through that. Again. He returned his hand over her heart, letting small amounts soak into her skin while forcibly pushing his hand against her chest in an even pace. Sweat beaded on his forehead and trailed down his face to drop down on her chest and his hands. He curled his lip back into a snarl, thinking that he was going to kill that damn elf if she died.
"Again, Dali." Al panted.
Silently, Dali set the soul down on the bed, leaned down, and took a deep breath. His now-free hands tilted Rachel's head back slightly, and he breathed into her mouth. He did that a few times, stopping when Al growled at him that that was enough and picked the soul back up.
Too soon, Al's hands were empty and he was refilling them in a long second. He went back to Rachel. The moment he pushed a wad into her heart, it pounded with no other help. Relieved, Al pushed a bigger wad into her, and her heart pounded with more strength. Before his energy could finish, Al groaned at Dali to put her soul back where it belonged. Eagerly, the other demon stepped forward, opening the bottle and dipping it close to Al's hands. Praying that they weren't making a mistake, Al removed his fingers.
Dali poured the gold soul onto her chest, and, like the line energy, it seeped into her. Al brought his second sight up as he all but pushed Dali away. Her soul had reclaimed it's place inside her. Her aura was covering her skin more rapidly than he thought possible. He heard Dali sigh in relief, and turned to him.
"Thank you, Dali." Al whispered, wondering how much he was going to be charged.
"You're welcome." Dali said. "Because I feel that I have a part to play in this, you owe me nothing. Perhaps a new tulpa for my restaurant, but nothing more."
"Of course," Al muttered, looking back to his student. "Once she's well."
Dali nodded, then glanced at Rachel as she croaked, "Al."
"I'll call you to make the arrangements." And he left Al with his student.
Al rushed to Rachel's side, crouching next to her head. "Yes, itchy witch?"
Sifting her head to look at him better, she asked, "Why is Dali here?"
"Was." he corrected, twirling a red curl between his fingers. "He was helping me bring you back to life."
"I died!" she gasped, then made a move to sit up.
Keeping her where she was, he said, "Yes."
"How did you bring me back?" Her eyes were wide.
Staring into her eyes, he explained the entire painful process. When he was done, his student only stared at him in wonder. "I didn't know demons could do that."
Al shrugged it off. "You will need to be in bed the next couple of days, Rachel. Resting." He emphasized the last word.
"Why?" She asked, annoyed.
"Because you need your strength to build back up. And your aura isn't all with you."
She narrowed her eyes. Then she flinched after she tried to reach for a line. Rolling his eyes, Al got to his feet. He was about to call her stupid when a damn sneeze tore from him. He grunted, then brought his mirror to him. He sat down next to Rachel, smiling as she complained about how much she hurt.
Sneezing again, he answered his call. "What do you want?"
Al! The fucking elf yelled. How's Rachel?
She's fine. Why the hell did you fall asleep?
I hadn't meant to. The elf said coldly. I want to speak to Rachel.
Al glanced at his student, at the blood that still covered her front. Her eyes were closed. She can't speak in the moment.
Let me speak to her! The elf raged.
Listen, elf, her aura is weak and she is unable to touch a line. I'll have her call you back when it's healed enough. Why was he even bothering with that elf? Oh, yes, because if he hung up, Trent might just summon her, and in her current state, it'll likely kill her.
Her aura is weak? How is that? What happened?
She died in whatever way you dreamt of her dying, Trent. I had to take her soul out and into a bottle to keep it going from wherever the hell it would go. There is hardly enough of it. It hurts her to touch a line, so don't try summoning her until I give the okay; you'll kill her, again. Make sure her friends know, too. And with that, Al removed his fingers from the cool glass, his fingertips throbbing where they were burned.
He reached over the bed to set his black scrying mirror on the night stand, using a healing curse. Glancing at his student, he used a brush-and-wash curse and put her in one of her pajamas that she had in her closet. Rachel shivered as the red ever after haze roamed over her, but she didn't complain. Again, she made an attempt to get up, only to have her teacher pushed her down. She really needed her rest; whether she liked it or not.
Growling unimpressively at Al, Rachel slapped his hands away. "Stop doing that," she groaned, falling back against the pillow with a yelp.
"Take it easy." Al grumbled. "Go to sleep." As she stared at him, dumbfounded, he smirked. "Unless you want to stare up at the ceiling the entire time you're in bed, you might as well. There aren't many activities for you to do in bed." He tilted his head and leered at her. "Well, not if I think it's not worth death, maybe a thing or two."
She blushed, saying, "Good thing sex with me isn't worth death, right?"
"I don't know, itchy witch," Al drawled, "Maybe. I've heard you are quite amazing. And I have seen many things when I saw everything in that head of yours. You might be worth it."
She chuckled. "No pressure."
Al leaned back on the head board, laughing quietly. "No worries, itchy witch." He turned and pulled the covers up to her chin.
She yawned, and closed her eyes, saying, "And thanks for saving my life, Big Al."
He stood, and smiled at her fondly, though she couldn't see it. "You're welcome. Now go to sleep."
She smiled, rolled on her side and did as he said.
Sorry for the longer wait than usual. I got a bit caught up on reading fanfiction from other fandoms:)
