7 The hotel, 10:42 PM. Me, slumped on the bed like a worthless old mop, my head buried under a pillow in a sore attempt to keep my sobs from awakening the other inhabitants of the hotel. The bed next to mine, empty and clean, a bed which once held the little boy I was supposed to take care of. I kept my eyes closed, my fists clenched to keep myself from doing too much physical damage to myself.
"Oh, Iv, what has happened to you to make you cry so much?"
I looked up to see the flickering image of a woman beside the bed. She had blue-black hair that was brushed away from her forehead and that tumbled down her back like the curling tendrils of a rare and beautiful plant. Her skin was the color of fresh milk, blemish free and smooth like polished marble, and her shell pink lips covered a mouth that had teeth the color of ivory, a mouth from which words spilled with the traditional Atlantean accent, musical and lovely. She wore a light blue classical Greek peplos and had eyes to match.
She was my spitting image, right down to the shape of her eyes and her slightly upturned nose, the dimple in her left cheek and the way that her lip curled a bit, even while she smiled. I shuddered-it was like looking in a mirror that showed the perfection that I might someday grow into.
"Hello,'' She whispered softly, attempting to push her hand through my hair. Like something out of an old sci-fi movie, it merely passed through my skull. I hastened back with fear and shock, and she smiled sadly, sighing with regret and remorse. "How I do miss my human form. It has been so long since I have felt the wind in my hair, or the touch of a loved one. It is something that I do begrudge to my goddess for imposing upon me. But eternal life is certainly a perk, don't you agree?" She laughed lightly, and it was like the tinkling of a tiny church bell.
"What are you doing here?" I asked abruptly. She blinked, looking surprised and then she responded,
"Why, I am here to give you the blueprints for your army. Why else would I be here?" She said lightly, pulling a nail file from her pocket and filing down her nails. The phrase motherly duties played on the tip of my tongue, but I thought it pointless to repeat. "Sweetheart, having men like Spawn and Zarek on your side is good, but you need more than just those boys to fight your fights for you. You need muscle of your own and you need more than just that, you need an army of your own." She winked.
"No thanks, I'd just like to die quietly," I mumbled, burying my head in pillows once more. She sighed, and I felt it brush over my skin like a summer wind and I covered myself with the blankets, waiting for sleep. I felt her still watching me, and I looked up, my glare seething as I threw back the covers. "So I need an army! FINE! But you know what, mom? This is the middle of nowhere and there's not a Wal-Mart within 1,000 miles, let alone an army recruiting station!" I stood and put my hands on my hips, glaring at her still. "So tough. I have to just to brave things out with the army myself. I have a better chance of freezing to death, anyhow."
She glared back at me, giving me insight as to how frightening an angry goddess could be. She pointed out the window, snarling, "Did you see the things out there, those...monsters that the Daimon scum are creating to destroy? More importantly, to destroy you?"
I threw my hands in the air. "And you are ignoring the fact that I don't care!" I shouted. "Let them kill me! I don't care! Ebony will leave me alone and then I can spend the rest of eternity as a, a-"
"As a damned warrior," She hissed. I gave her an incredulous, suspicious look, and then my eyes got wide.
"No." My voice was little more than a whisper, less that a breath.
"Artemis has been watching you since the death of your first Dark-hunter ward. She is very interested in your initiation as one of her Hunters. And if you give up, it'll be like giving up and giving in to her and practically killing yourself."
"So?" I snapped, regaining my voice. "That job has its perks. Not dying. Money."
"Never seeing sunlight and having to abandon those you knew during your human existence?" She continued with an angry little laugh. "Darling, forgive me, but I can't see the perks of becoming something like that."
"So help me make my army," I said begrudgingly. She gave a self righteous smirk and nodded.
"I thought you'd say that," She said with a note of satisfaction in her voice, "So the next step would be to-"
She was interrupted, much to her distaste, by the knocking of the door. She began again, "Now, who would be calling this late-" Before she was interrupted again by the same noise. With an angry "humph!" She vanished, leaving the smell of ash and lily flower in the air where her hologram had rested. I crossed the small room, ignoring the lump resting in my throat as I passed Nikitas' bed, and I opened the door.
The woman who waited outside in the hall was tall, though an inch or two shorter than myself, with medium length dark brown hair that fell to about the middle of her chest. She had light blue eyes, fair, freckled skin, and wore a red halter top under a thick black jacket, along with dark jeans and a pair of nice looking black flats.
"Yes?" I said suspiciously, leaving the door only slightly ajar. She looked harmless, but so did most Daimons. Sure, she wasn't blond, but that little fact doesn't stop Stryker from being as dangerous as his Daimon brethren, now, does it? (For those of you new to our little circle of mythological beings, welcome! And to answer the previous question, no, it does not.)
"You're Zarek's friend, right?" She said in a voice that didn't seem very threatening. I nodded, though personally I didn't consider us BFFs, and she looked relieved. "Oh, thank god. I've been going door to door looking for you, and I keep getting these weird looks. But now I've found you. Good," She continued with a laugh, a nervous laugh that showed that she was about as comfortable with this awkward-fest as I was. "I'm Sharon. Sharon Parker." I opened the door to shake her hand, and I replied,
"Ivory Saint-John."
"What a pretty name," She said with a smile. "May I come in?"
I hesitated for a moment before thinking, what the heck, and nodding. She smiled again as I moved so that she could come inside of the small room, and she looked around, taking off her jacket and putting it over the back of a chair. I sat down on the edge of the bed.
"How old are you, Ivory?" She inquired.
"Twenty one," I answered solemnly. "Twenty two next December."
She nodded and continued to walk around the small room, and she pulled the curtains back to look out at the small city. "How do you know Zarek?" She asked.
The question caught me slightly off guard. "We work for the same company," I told her, "He's the Fairbanks branch manager." Hey, a half-lie never hurt anyone. She turned and smiled, and it seemed to be her turn to appear suspicious.
"Mmhm. You two aren't…" She trailed off and gave me a meaningful look, and I swear I could have died then and there. Forget the immortal undead army, that simple sentence would have killed me.
"GOD, NO!" I shouted, gagging and feeling bile rise in my throat. For an instant, I saw a bit of relief flood her features, and I shuddered. "No, no, no, no, no. No ma'am. That is not my territory, no. We're co-workers. Gross." I shuddered again.
"Oh," She said her voice quiet. "Okay. Well, he just wanted me to come over here and check on you, see that you'd gotten back alright. He called me and told me to come over here and see…"
"That's certainly out of character," I mumbled, and she gave me a smile, nodding.
"Exactly, which was what made me wonder…" I raised a hand, shuddering still.
"God, please don't say it again," I begged her. "Just…no. Gah. That's just…icky. So, you can report to him, tell him that I'm ok. Is that all you needed?"
"Well, no. He said that you need to get to know people up here, so there's this club outside of town, forty miles or so, and a bunch of us are getting together…" She looked to me expectantly, and I sighed.
"Sorry Sharon, that sounds great but…I can't. I don't know if Zarek told you, but I had kind of a rough day today and I honestly don't feel like doing much of anything." I looked up, offering her a sad half smile. "Hope you understand, maybe next time I can go."
She gave me an uneasy look. "See, he didn't tell me to ask you. He kind of told me, 'drag her out. Use brute force if necessary.'… 'No' didn't really seem to be an option." She too, looked slightly apologetic. "So, sorry. But attendance seems to be mandatory."
I sighed, nodding. "See, that's more like him. Okay, just give me a minute to get dressed."
I emerged from the bathroom in a black sweater which was a bit tight over my hips, a black skirt, and a pair of black Harley Davidson motorcycle boots. My make-up was dark, as per usual, and my hair pulled back out of my eyes with a few ringlets spiraling around my face. I grabbed my purse and the hotel room key, and Sharon followed me out of the room.
"So, what is this place called?"
"La Vie Nocturne," She replied. "Sounds fancy, but my friend Alice says it's cool. I guess it's a Goth place, so I can see you fitting in pretty well. She told me there are lots of cute guys, too..." She laughed with a smile and I smiled too as I brushed a stray lock of hair from my eyes.
"Is Z meeting us there?" I inquired, hoping the answer would be in my favor.
"No. He works nights, remember?" I nodded. "What do you guys do at that company, anyway?"
"Pest extermination," I responded with a slightly grim smile. I told no lies. "It's a big business. We have branches all over the globe. It's incredible, the stories some of these people can tell you." I gave her my cheesiest Kodak moment grin and she laughed.
"Sounds cool," She said, and we exited the hotel, making our way to her car. I waited for her to unlock the passenger door, freezing my ass off, and only to realize that her heater was broken.
Oh, the never-ending joy that is my life.
"The heater broke," She explained (Gee, thanks, captain Obvious, we missed you at our last meeting!), "Hence the coat. Hope you won't freeze before we get to the club!"
It would be a joke to me, too, lady, if I were the one wearing the coat…
Ah, I made it to the night club alive. It was a surprisingly large building for the Middle of Fucking Nowhere, USA, and designed to look inconspicuous, hence the fact that it was designed to look like a six story tall Greek temple, fashioned from some black reflective material, like dark mirrors. Damn the designers, a temple? A temple of evil black mirrors, nonetheless?
Of course. I half expected to run into Aria here, though the inhabitants didn't really seem her type- most were tall, decked out in fishnets or leather, lots and lots of leather, all in black and various shades of neon red, green, and purple. I noted quite a few blondes in the groups, too- tall blonds. With 'fake' fangs.
No, no Ivy, if this was a Daimon hot spot, the Dark-Hunters would be on here like white on rice. Don't worry about it. I kept telling myself it, but it didn't make me believe it.
The bouncer, a mountain of a man, didn't believe my I.D. was real. He checked it twice, contacted the managers, and we sat in the line for twenty minutes until the irritated Goths yelled, "Just let the bitch through already!" Enough to make him actually let the bitch through.
The whole place was black walls, strobe lights, screaming music, and a lot of slam dancing. I covered my ears.
"Alice!" Sharon shouted as we made our way away from the large doors, motioning to a tall woman with a black dress and short blond hair, who waved back and made her way through the crowd towards us.
"Hey, this your friend?" She called over the noise. Sharon nodded.
"Ivory," I said loudly, shaking her hand. "Alice?"
She nodded and motioned for us to come over to the bar. Shouting something to the bartender, she offered us both stools while she sat on her own. In a matter of minutes, the bartender placed a drink the color of blood in front each of us. Nodding our thanks, we sat in silence for a few minutes before a man with platinum blond hair, maybe 6'3" in height, approached the bar. He said a few words to Sharon, who laughed and nodded in response, and then he turned to me.
"Would you like to dance?" He said with a smile that displayed fake fangs. I shook my head and smiled back to him, feeling a bit dizzy.
"No," I replied curtly.
"Come on. Just one dance. You won't regret it."
I highly doubted that, but whatever. I was feeling dizzier still and the bartender placed another one of the drinks in front of me without my asking. I drank about half of it in a silent moment, and the man still didn't go away. Damn it.
"Fine," I said, setting the drink down again once it had been emptied. I allowed him to lead me away from the group, even though something in my brain told me that I was making a really, really big mistake.
My god, did I ever regret it- the guy couldn't dance to save his life. He was out of time, off beat, and was using moves that I'm sure wouldn't get him any girlfriends anytime soon. Certainly not me-he stepped on my toes far too much for my liking.
The guy even had the gall to blame it on me. "You're too drunk to dance!" He laughed, trying to wrap an arm around my shoulders. I shrugged him away with a sharp look.
"I'm not drunk!" I hiccupped. Okay. Maybe just a little tipsy, but it didn't mean the asshole could blame it on me. I took dance classes. Hell, I was a dancer. My mother had enrolled me in the classes at age three.
"How old are you, kid?" He laughed. "You skip your kindergarten ballet class again? Keep time, little girl!"
"Listen, douche bag, I'm not the bad dancer here. I'm almost 22, too, so get those creepy high school girl fantasies out of your head!" I stomped on his toes on purpose. He winced, but laughed again, showing off the fake fangs.
"The five year age difference doesn't bother me, baby," He said with a sleazy wink. I felt my eyes go wide as his words registered with me
(22+5 is 27, Ivory, run away now and run fast),
And I pushed him away while shouting, "Leave me alone and find someone else's toes to step on!" Before turning around and storming back to the bar. I found Sharon on her third drink, laughing and talking with a dark haired man of about 35. Her friend Alice was gone. I slumped down in the seat and glared at the empty glass until the bartender served me another, which I sipped slowly while burning a hole in the table with my glare.
"Keep that guy away from me, okay?" I told her when the man walked away again.
"Who?" Sharon asked with a laugh that sounded a bit slurred. "That guy?"
"No, the guy who asked me to dance!" I shouted. "He's totally creepy!"
"Okay," She said absentmindedly. I sighed, feeling a little sick.
"I'm gonna go find the bath room!" I muttered, as an attempt to get away from all the noise. Also, I felt a little like I was going to puke.
Sharon didn't seem to hear me, so I left anyway, finding my way into the small cramped restroom in a manner of minutes. While I fixed my hair in the mirror, I hear someone being slammed up against the stall behind me, along with some noise that betrayed what was going on in the small space. Shaking my head in disgust, I rolled my eyes and continued to fix my ponytail. I only looked up when the door opened and a tall handsome blond man dressed in all black stepped out. I continued to stare as he licked his lips and sighed in a satisfied manner, winking to me and then leaving the women's bathroom. I stared at the stall behind me until I realized that there was something still in the stall, and I thought that the strange man might have left his coat, so I turned to retrieve it…
…and found the still bleeding, still warm body of a slightly overweight Goth girl in a miniskirt, fishnets, and a tube top, her blank brown eyes staring up at the dirty ceiling in disbelief.
"Oh, fuck," I whispered, shaking my head. I knew it. This place was a Daimon club, and I-
-I had to get a hold of the Dark-Hunters. ASAP. I pulled out my phone and quickly dialed Zarek's cell phone number, and cursed under my breath while I waited, avoiding the glassy eyes of the corpse.
"You have reached the automated voice mailbox of-" Letting another foul curse escape my lips, and I hung up the phone, half-tempted to call Acheron, even though he was angry with me.
"Screw it," I muttered, tapping the number into my phone and hitting SEND. There was not even a dial tone, and I gave up in disgust. I couldn't call the police. I couldn't leave Sharon here, or have her drive me to Zarek's without her asking why.
So I went with the next best option.
"Hello?" Said the voice, surprised and a little wary.
"Spawn!" I cried. "Oh, thank god you answered your phone. I'm at this club, and it's- oh, it's a Daimon club, there's all sorts of stuff going on, and I-I'm in the women's room, and there's a dead body, and-"
"Be right there," He said, and with an angry note in his voice he then ordered me, "Stay where you are and don't talk to anyone." He hung up the phone and I put my phone away, still shaken and still feeling sick. I made my way into another stall and puked up my guts, ignoring the body on the floor in the next stall.
I was still in the women's room when Spawn showed up, sitting on the counter with my knees drawn up to my chin, my eyes closed. I opened them to see him, the only blond guy in this place I'd trust my life with.
"Did you get a hold of Zarek?" I asked hoarsely. He nodded solemnly, and I sighed. "Is he coming out here too?" Another nod, and then I closed my eyes again and pointed into the middle stall where the body rested. He approached the body with a whistle, reaching down to take her wrist to check for a pulse.
"Well, she's dead," He said tonelessly. I nodded, my eyes open now. "Damn it. If that Daimon hadn't just fed from her-if you had been in the room alone…Do you know how much danger you would have been in?" I nodded quietly.
"I know," I said, and I dug in my pocket to bring out a switchblade, opening it to reveal a decent sized blade. "But it's not me you should worry about. I'm a fighter by nature. It's the rest of the humans in this club who are completely unarmed who I'd think about protecting."
Nodding, he pulled out his phone. "Now, I-" He turned and blinked in surprise. "What happened to the body?" I looked over his shoulder to see that, indeed, the pudgy corpse of the young woman had disappeared.
My eyes were wide with disbelief, as were his, and I stood, crossing the short distance to the stall in two strides. I looked around the small, empty space, which was devoid of blood or gore of any kind to suggest that a gruesome murder had been committed less than an hour beforehand.
His phone had gone away, and Spawn too surveyed the stall with confusion. "That's impossible, it was just there, and there is no way that it could have-unless she was a-no that makes no sense…Her…" He looked actually more confused than I felt as his gaze fell to me, his eyebrows raised. "What?"
"Where could it have gone?" I asked with shock still in my voice. "It was just there two seconds ago-"
"We should get out of here before another Daimon comes in," He told me, urging me toward the exit. "I have a really bad feeling about this."
"Well, if there is a Daimon, shouldn't you kill it?" I snapped back, pushing away from his hand. "Isn't that, like, your job or something?"
"Would you let someone look out for you for once?" He laughed in response. I stopped moving and turned around to give him another honestly surprised look.
"Why are you trying to look out for me?" I asked, and he didn't answer right away, he merely placed a hand on my cheek and sighed deeply, looking at me with ebony black eyes. I kept his gaze as I covered his hand with mine, and then he pulled away.
"I'm required to protect all humans," He replied with the faintest type of a smile. I nodded, but not before I realized that this wasn't the answer I had been looking for. I felt a slight surge of guilt as I thought back to Eli, who was still missing. Maybe dead. Maybe alive. I still missed him. So much that I could cry over it.
"Okay. But don't leave me alone here. I'm with a few other humans who I want to get out of here ASAP." I hiccupped again and blushed red. I'd completely forgotten about my tipsy state with him, which I supposed might have been a good thing.
I lead the way from the women's room, back towards the place where Sharon and I had been sitting only about half an hour before. The seats were empty and her drinks were gone, along with mine and Alice's. Upon further inquiry from me, the bartender told us that the women had left the bar with a pair of men. Upon further inquiry courtesy of Spawn, who was apparently a little more threatening than a short Goth kid and could also read minds, we discovered that the men who had left with them were regulars at the place and, in fact, a pair of tall handsome blond men with fangs.
My stomach hit the floor.
I rushed for the exit, Spawn at my side. I cut through throngs of new Gothic arrivals, shouting for Sharon and Alice. I would feel terrible if something happened to them-I would never, ever be able to make it up to Zarek if Sharon was killed.
I pushed the doors open, nearing knocking over the mammoth bouncer, and screamed, "Sharon!" Looking around the parking lot frantically for her.
Oh god, if she's dead, I'm dead…
"Ivory?" Asked a weak voice from the sidewalk. I looked down to see that I was almost stepping on her poor friend Alice, who was bleeding heavily from a large gaping wound in her neck. She took a long, shuddering breath, and her eyes were slightly glazed over, her black dress slick with blood. I covered my mouth with my hand and Spawn leaned down to check her pulse. Her eyes closed and for a fleeting second my heart skipped a beat, but the Spawn looked up at me with a doubtful, sad frown.
"It doesn't look good," He murmured. "Her breathing is very shallow and she's losing blood rapidly. We need to get her to a hospital."
"Don't bother," She wheezed. "Sharon is important now. Get her back from…the Daimons…"She took a deep breath again and then her eyes closed.
"How do you know about them, Alice?" He asked her quickly, sparing no time when there was such little left for her. She coughed and blood splattered out on the concrete. Her eyes became wide, frightened. She held out a shaking hand for me, and I took it. She passed something into my hand, and Spawn apparently didn't notice.
"I'm sorry I did not know you longer," She told me. "You are to be protected. I assure you, you would have valued me in your army. I give you only this though-Don't trust the goddess. She will lead you to ruin for her own benefit. Trust nothing to her, show her neither anger nor happiness, and you will live." She smiled to me, showing teeth stained with blood. "Good night. I might see you again when I return to the world once again."
"Where is Sharon?" I cried, holding her weak hands. "Please. Tell me."
A blood curdling scream interrupted our conversation, and I looked up, gasping. Her hand fell limp and she let out a guttural cry before the breath left her body. I looked back down to her, feeling horrible for her.
"I'll go find her," Spawn said, taking off into the night. "Stay here!"
I felt strange sitting on the curb beside a corpse, and none of the drunken kids walking by, laughing with their friends, seemed to notice me. I looked down to the body, careful not to touch it. Alice's eyes were now fully glazed over, staring at me with the intensity that only a corpse could accomplish. I shuddered.
"Please stop looking at me like that," I said with a sigh, slumping down on the sidewalk, my knees drawn up and my arms wound around them like bows on a Christmas gift. I shivered in my sweater, rubbing my hands together before I continued. "I mean, none of this is my fault, is it? Ebony is a crack pot, and so is Georgia. Ebony is jealous of me, right? Jealous enough to get my husband to murder me for her pleasure. I wonder what ever happened to the jerk..."
Sighing, I stood. "You wouldn't understand. No one does. Hell, I don't even fully understand what is happening and why it is. For me, all of this is a shock. I mean, none of this was happening before I showed up here. Why is it happening now?" I paused and then laughed. "I mean, maybe I'm just nuts. I fell off the edge right into Looney Ville. Look at me now. I'm talking to a corpse, freezing my ass off in the middle of nowhere." I gave myself a disgusted glare, visible through her glassy eyes. "Fuck it. I'm going to find Spawn."
I stood, dusted off my skirt, and ran away in the direction that Spawn had taken. I glanced back to see that the corpse was gone.
Fairbanks, Alaska-Land of the Disappearing Corpses.
"Spawn!" I shouted at the top of my lungs, running through the wilderness that surrounded the night club, barely finding my way through the darkness. "Where are you?"
I heard his voice, a shout, and then another blood curdling scream. I heard a few quick gunshots and then I gasped, falling to the ground and hearing a sickening crack that preceded a sharp stab of pain in my ankle. I clutched it, tears forming in my eyes as I bit down on my lip. Fuck, it hurt like a thousand knives in my side. But I had to continue to look for Spawn and Sharon; I couldn't give up just yet.
"Sharon!" I screamed. "Spawn! Where are you guys?"
"Ivory?" I heard Spawn shout, along with another gunshot.
"Spawn?" I cried, crying my tears with the back of my hand. "Where are you?"
"Over here!" He yelled back. "Sharon is with me!"
I followed the direction of his voice, dragging my wounded foot with me, stumbling over a bank of snow and ending up on my back in the cold snow. I looked up to see Spawn fighting off a Daimon who stood between himself and Sharon, who lay on the ground, her eyes closed and blood dripping from her neck. I thought back to Alice and my heart leapt into my throat.
The Daimon cut at him with a knife, ripping the fabric of his black shirt. I stumbled up, a gasp on my lips, and then Spawn looked back to me. His eyes summed up my ankle and my disheveled appearance, and the Daimon cut at him again. He turned to the man with a shout, and then threw him to the ground where the man sat for a second, paralyzed, before he jumped up again and attempted to bury the hilt of his knife in Spawn's chest.
I watched the ordeal with huge grey eyes, my hands clutched at my side. I flinched with every hit, every stab, and when Spawn finally stood the victor, dappled in the Daimon's blood, I rushed over to Sharon.
"He was feeding on her," He panted as I cradled her head, trying to staunch the blood flow. "I stopped him, and believe me, that was no simple task." I looked up at him.
"Where is Zarek?" I demanded. "Why isn't he here helping? She needs to get to the ER! She's losing blood fast!"
He leaned down and picked her up easily carrying her in his arms. She was like a limp rag doll, blood dripping from various wounds, as Spawn followed me in silence out of the clearing. We were like a funeral procession, mourners all coated in black, tears still dripping from my eyes because; 1. Zarek was probably going to kill me. 2. Sharon was probably going to die. And, 3. My ankle was probably broken.
"She's not going to die," He soothed me, looking back down at me with a small smile which I responded to by looking down, flushing and brushing my hair into my eyes. "And what happened to your ankle?"
"I fell looking for you," I admitted with my eyes down, tracing the snow at my feet. He laughed, smiling to show off his sharp fangs, so much like those of the Daimons he hunted, and then it faded to a smile.
"Well, I hope you'll be alright," He told me sincerely. "We should take you to the hospital, too."
"Maybe," I said, toeing the ground with my good foot. "But at the moment, Sharon is the priority, alright? My injuries can wait."
"If you insist, but we're going to get that checked out. It might turn out to be a fracture." He looked back down at my foot, and then looked back up, continuing on a path back toward the club.
I stumbled again and then fell, hard, onto the snow. Spawn stopped and turned around, offering me a hand with a slight frown. "You don't need me to carry you too, do you?" He said with worry in his tone. I blushed at the thought.
"No!" I said with an embarrassed little laugh. "No, I'm-I'm fine. Just help me up."
He did so, and then I brushed off my skirt and kept my eyes on the ground. He readjusted Sharon's body in his arms, and then we were silent, walking through the cover of the forest once more. The walk back seemed ages longer than the run away from the night club, and the rest of the time was spent behind a suffocating wall of awkward silence.
The loud roar of a snow machine finally broke the silence, and I looked up to see the black machine slide to a stop a few feet from Spawn. The man pulled off a helmet and pushed back his long black hair out of his face, showing a handsome profile and two days worth of growth on his strong jaw. He looked shocked and really, really angry. Being the strong, mighty warrior that I am, I hid behind Spawn cowering.
"Who did this to her?" Zarek roared, throwing his helmet into the snow with enough force to bury it. I shook with fear.
"A few Daimons who crept up on Alice and Sharon while they were at the club. Ivory was unavailable and they led the girls outside. Alice died from her injuries but they couldn't take her soul. I dusted the Daimons and then found Sharon out here, and Ivory found me a few minutes later. She isn't dead; we just need to get her to a hospital." He spoke smoothly and quickly, and I held onto his arm with a shaking hand. Zarek glared at him, speaking slowly and with horrible venom in his voice.
"Give her to me."
"No," Spawn said, almost haughtily. "We need to get her to a hospital and falling off the back of your snow mobile isn't going to help her. She has a car. She has keys. I know how to drive. So please, step aside." Spawn stepped toward Zarek until he was less than a foot away, nose to nose with the psychopath. "Now. It's what's best for her."
This seemed to cool the man's anger, and he stepped back to let Spawn retreat to Sharon's car, flicking her keys out of her pocket and motioning to me. As I walked toward him, my head high, Zarek stopped me by laying a hand on my shoulder. I looked up at him, blue-grey eyes distant and cold as I gazed into his, black as pitch.
"I wish it had been you," He said, his voice little more than a growl, almost hard to hear, full of anguish and hatred. I bit back my own anger to meet his glare evenly.
"Well, I wish I had a million dollars and a stake to kill you with, but we can't always get what we wish for, now, can we?" I hissed back, spitting on his shoes and then pushing past him to follow Spawn.
Spawn was silent when I reached him. "You two don't get along, do you?" He laughed, putting an arm around my shoulders.
"Spawn," I chastised him. "Stop it."
"What?" He said, feigning weakness. "If I must carry this woman to her car, I need all the help I can get. You're simply supporting me in my noble deed, something for which I am eternally grateful." He looked down to wink at me.
"Well, the least you could do would be to stop leaning up against my wounded ankle," I told him severely. He looked down and relented, unwinding his arm from around me and saying nothing more.
Eventually we found our way to Sharon's car, an old grey Toyota model from the late 1990s, early 21st century. He unlocked the door, opened the back seat to gently lay the body of the woman down across the faded grey seats, and then he covered her up with a blanket that had been laying on the floor. He slammed the door shut and then unlocked my door, adjusting the seat to fit his tall frame, and I sat in the passenger seat, still shivering, trying to warm my fingers.
Spawn looked over to me as he started the car. I cut an accusing glare down at the controls of the vehicle. "Heater's broken," I told him through chattering teeth. He sized up my small sweater and skirt and then shrugged off his black leather jacket, offering it to me. It was large on me, comfortably so, and smelled very good-like Old Spice and the slightest hint of aftershave. I offered him a weak smile as I wrapped it around me. "Won't you be cold?" I asked quietly.
He shrugged, and pulled out of the parking lot, following a main road leading away from Fairbanks. "Where are you going?" I asked, stifling a yawn. According to the clock on the dashboard, it was 12:07. Seven minutes into the witching hour. Seven minutes into a new day.
But hey, that's looking at it from an optimistic point of view. And who likes to do that, anyway?
He smiled faintly. "Getting you both to a hospital," He replied.
"Fairbanks it that way," I said, pointing in the opposite direction.
"The hospital is this way," He said, pointing ahead, and then he returned to focusing on his driving. I was silent again, until I finally found the nerve to speak again.
"Spawn?" I said in a whisper. He nodded to acknowledge that he had heard me, and I wrapped my fingers around his leather jacket before I continued. "I-I just wanted to thank you. For coming to help me. I don't know how terrible it would have ended without you there to help. So thank you," I finished with a tiny smile.
He was silent for a moment and then he sighed. "Of course I was there to help. You asked me to be there," He replied, returning my smile. I looked down, closing my eyes and not knowing how to continue without treading in territory that deserved to be left undiscovered.
Dear reader; I hope you never learn to hate hospitals as much as I do. Emergency rooms make me edgy; the ICU makes me want to hurl myself off a cliff or something equally tall and deadly. Even with Spawn there, filling out the information on the clipboard they gave us and giving me a reassuring smile every few minutes, I still felt the need to hobble out of there as quickly as my wounded body would allow me to.
"If you even try, I'd tackle you before you made it four feet toward the door," Spawn muttered under his breath, and when I cut him a sideways glance, he gave me the 'I'm-an-Innocent-Angel' smile again. That smile hurt me like a dagger twisted in my stomach-it reminded me of Nikitas.
Spawn sighed, moving away to return the clipboard to the nurse, who gave him a goo-goo eyed sort of a look, practically drooling over him. She was a pretty enough woman- short red hair, green eyes, fair skin, and a lot of freckles. I crossed my legs, tapping my good foot against the marble floor while they spoke, her twirling a strand of her hair around a finger and practically pushing her boobs at him. He returned a moment later, laughing and looking to me.
"What?" I snapped. He rolled his eyes.
"Red heads aren't my thing," He told me with a wink. I rolled my eyes in return, ignoring him, until he continued, "No. I prefer blonds."
I laughed. "You are such a guy," I muttered. He looked down at me, an eyebrow raised.
"I should hope so," He replied with a smirk. "And following this vein of conversation, so to speak, what is wrong with blonds?"
I shrugged. "I have just never felt the desire to be blond," I replied. "I don't think it's something you'd understand."
"Why not?"
"Well, I use a lot of big words, and I don't know if you would be able to keep up," I replied with an innocent grin of my own. He gave me a look of understanding.
"Ah, the age-old, I'm a blond, I must have four and a half brain cells, thing, huh?" He said with a laugh.
"Two; and that's if you're pregnant," I corrected with an evil, toothy grin. "No, I have a blond best friend, and she doesn't fit any type of a stereotype. She's pretty smart, so I guess my knowledge of the interworking of ditzy blond girls comes from all the nasty jokes I accumulated in my 7th and 8th grade years," I admitted with my smile intact.
"Don't be so harsh on them," He chastised. "Many Appolites are smart-well, they have to be. Most intelligence is lost, along with the ability to dance, when they become Daimons. And I've only ever heard of one un-blond Appolite, and I heard rumor that he dyes his hair black." He shrugged and leaned back, closing his eyes with a small smile playing on his lips.
I opened my mouth to reply when the receptionist-nurse piped up. "Saint-John, Ivory?" She called. I stood with Spawn's assistance, and then hobbled over to the desk. Spawn did not return to his seat, he simple leaned against the desk, watching me. I caught the receptionist's irritated and jealous look and I smirked.
"Yes?"
"The doctor will see you now," She said, her lips puckered like she'd just eaten a lemon. I smiled and Spawn helped me out into one of the offices. I looked up at him as he helped me take a seat on the cot.
"You should go keep an eye on Sharon," I told him. "I'm fine now." He gave me a droll look and then raised an eyebrow.
"Show me your ankle, then, if you're fine. Just to make sure." I glared at him, pulled my leg up onto the cot to unzip my boot, and then I pushed it down to reveal my swollen yellow and purple ankle. I stared at it with a dropped jaw, and then back at him. He looked unsurpised.
"I didn't know it was that bad," I admitted, picking my jaw up off the floor. He nodded, and then gave a bitter smile.
"The Squire council is going to think that Zarek is beating his Squires," He said with a wry look. I shrugged.
"I could see him doing that," I replied. "He seems to hate me enough."
Spawn sighed. "He was worried about Sharon," He told me. "I mean, it doesn't justify what he said, but I know that his thoughts were moving a million miles an hour and they were only about his friend."
"And about how he wished it was me," I muttered sullenly. Then I looked up at Spawn, who seemed so much taller than me, especially while I was seated. "Can you read anyone's mind?" I asked with almost childlike interest. He nodded, looking grave.
"Why?" He inquired. I shrugged, sat back using my arms as support, and swung my good leg over the side of the cot.
"Just wondering," I said quietly. "What does Zarek think about?" I flushed then, looking down and brushing my hair into my eyes, and then I crossed my arms over my chest, my face still red. "Never mind. That was really nosy. I'm sorry."
"He thinks about his past, and what he's endured," He told me, taking a lock of my hair and then twirling it around his finger. I looked up at him, into his ebony eyes, which seemed distant and almost saddened, and then he let go of my dark hair, brushing a hand through his own platinum hair.
"Oh," I said softly, uncrossing my arms as I continued to watch him. "The village that he destroyed?"
"Why do you wish to know so much about the man?" He said, his eyes meeting mine. "You seem to have an almost unsettling interest in him."
"I'm his Squire," I said through grit teeth, my head held high and my eyes cold, even, and as dangerous as his. We remained in silence until the doctor opened the door and strode in with a gleeful smile. He was fair haired and fair skinned, with a strong jaw and stood only a few inches shorter than Spawn. With a crisp white doctor's coat and a stethiscope, he was the very picture of a doctor straight out of a children's book, almost too good to be true.
"Why hello, mrs. Saint-John, how are you today?" He said with a white toothed grin, showing off a set of teeth and a smile so fake they should have been in a before/after dental add.
"Miss," I corrected coldly, glaring a Spawn, who the doctor looked to with slight confusion.
"We're just friends," He told the other man with a bitter smile. "Not married. I brought her here because she was complaining about her foot while we were at a club. She must have twisted it earlier."
"I was snow mobiling earlier, and I messed it up. I just thought I'd come in here to get it checked out."
"Well, I am Dr. Aimond," He said, pronouncing it 'Aa-Mon', offering Spawn his hand and nodding to me. He looked down to my ankle. "And what a wound it is!" He said with an almost apreciative whistle, looking down at my ankle. "Tell me if you feel anything." He gently touched my leg, but it was numb to me, and I shook my head. He continued to grip my ankle, closer to my foot and a little tighter, and I felt only a dull pain, and then I shook my head again. He held my ankle so tightly that I could have sworn my bone snapped and I screamed out in surreal pain, closing my eyes against the agonized tears and then biting down on my lower lip. I was in pain that I had never felt before, and I felt a strong pair of arms around me, holding me tightly and soothing me.
The doctor gave a low whistle. "Well, I think we found the point of breakage," He said, holding onto my ankle softly, and when I opened my eyes again I found him looked down at my ankle with a surprised expression. "By god, I can't believe it- the bones have already set. But how did this happen?" He looked up at me and I shrugged, still biting my lip.
"Fast healer," I grunted. Aimond looked a bit sickened.
"We're going to have to re-break the bones," He told me, looking grave.
"No!" I begged. "Please, no!" Th tears streamed down my face in a mixture of agony and fear. "Oh, god, please don't, there must be another way..."
Stay strong, daughter, live through pain to live another day.
My mother's voice echoed in my mind, and I tried to think rationally.
"It's the only way to fix your leg so that the bones don't fully heal in the wrong places." I heard a low, deep growl from behind me and looked up to see Spawn glaring at the doctor. "We can put you under, of course, and we'll move you to the surgery ward to break the bones and fix them."
"Oh, god," I whispered, and Spawn held me tighter as I felt my tears staining my cheeks and my sweater. "Just get it over with," I told Aimond. "Please."
He nodded and then walked out into the hall. "Nurse," He called. "Prepare operating room 4. Wheel in the patient along witht he information, I have to go prepare for the operation." He smiled to me. "Don't worry, it will all be over soon enough."
"I'm staying with you," Spawn said with a quiet, angry voice, "While they do the operation. I need to be there."
"No, you don't," I told him sternly. "You need to be out on patrol."
He gave me a sharp glare. "There are no Daimons here, and if so, Zarek can handle them. I need to be here to make sure that your operation goes well." He took my hand and then kissed it, looking up at me and then taking it in his hands, his eyes pleading. "I'm going to stay here with you, and then I'll go, as soon as I know you're going to be safe I'll go home, but please, don't try to make me leave. You wouldn't be able to."
"Why do you want to stay?" I said with an exasperated sigh. "There is nothing for you to stay for. Nothing."
He shrugged and opened his mouth to reply, and then a young woman in nurses' scrubs entered the room, offering me a small smile.
"Hi," She said quietly, motioning to the rolling gurney in her possession. "I need to wheel you down to the surgery ward now, you're scheduled to have an apointment with the anistesiologist before your surgery begins, so if you could please step onto the gurney- do you need assistance?"
"No, I'm-" the word fine was on my lips when I was picked up by Spawn and laid down onto the the gurney, and then he held onto my shoulders until I stopped trying to sit up again.
"I'll be there in just a minute, be careful and don't worry." Before I could respond he was gone, and the nurse took me toward a door at the end of the hallway marked SURGERY. We pushed through the doors and into the darkness, and I found Dr. Aimond awaiting us, his surgical tools laid out in front of him like weapons. His face was blank at first, but upon further investigation I found that he had a grim sort of determination to him. I had the horrible feeling in the very pit of my stomach that something was going to go terribly wrong. Like, scarring wrong.
Mom; I began to think. What is going to happen? Is something going to happen to me?
There was nothing. For the first time in the past 24 hours, my mother had nothing to contribute, no two cents to add to my choices or to how my life was going.
MOM, I tried again, the voice in my mind straining. PLEASE.
Just go to sleep, imora. Go to sleep and let them cut the string if they must.
Wait, what? Cut the string?
For a brief second, I remembered a book about Greek myths that I had read during junior high school in my ninth grade year-the year that we studied mythology in public school, the year that my father began to work for a woman named Brynen who, for some reason, no one outside of the family could know about.
I had sat in the library for hours pouring over the books, and looking back on it now, I could remember a section I had read about the Fates: These goddesses, also called the Moirai, deterined the length and course of every human life. Clotho spun out each thread of destiny, Lachesis measured it to the right length, and Atropos snipped it with her shears.
Spin, measure, snip.
Cut the string if they must.
Snip, measure, spin.
Cut my string if they must.
In a moment of pure panic I strugged to get away from the gurey, but soon I found that I had been tied down with thick leather straps that hadn't been there before. I tried to speak but there was a gag placed in my mouth, which also prevented my screams.
MOTHER, HELP ME! I screamed in my mind. I felt the fear and adrenaline pumping in my veins like steel as I struggled.
I could almost see my mother before me, her face indifferent as she shrugged and gave me a frown. No- I could see her. She stood by the doctor and had one transparent hand on his shoulder, her face blank as she watched me with her pale blue eyes. If you had only listened, imora. If you had let me go, I would not have had to make you fall, and you would not be here now. If only you had listened to your mother.
"Noo-" I began as the gag was ripped from my mouth. The doctor dismissed the young nurse as she shut the door, he pulled out a mirror and checked his teeth, and then turned the mirror towards me.
"You know, you are quite an interesting case, Miss Saint-John. A broken ankle, almost completely severed at the bone, healed within a matter of hours. Accompanied here by a warrior of Artemis- a traitor to our kind." He laughed quietly and then started to pull something off of his teeth, which in this light seemed sharper than normal. He set them down in a metal tray by his tools and then looked at his teeth in the mirror, cleaning them off with his tongue and then grinning at me with his fangs.
"Aimond, Daimon- Dear gods, how did I miss that?" I muttered angrily under my breath. He laughed again, giving me a small fanged smile.
"Do not worry, many do. It is not a mistake that I will let you make twice, though, my dear," He said as he approached me.
"Spawn will stop you," I said through grit teeth, feeling like the damsel in distress of an old comic book. "He's going to come in and make sure that the operation goes well and that nothing happens to me." The 'doctor' laughed again, his hands on my cheeks, fingers trailing down to my throat and my sweater's neck. I was trying to avoid breathing, trying to push myself away from his prying fingers, until he responded with something that made my blood run cold.
"All we must tell him is that the opperation when horribly wrong and that you suffered an untimely accident. He won't be any the wiser and I'll be another soul richer. But in the mean time..." He turned away and chose a thin blade from among weapons before him. He turned back to me with an evil look, twisting the blade between his fingers. "I've never tasted the blood of a fallen goddess before."
"So you've heard my story," I said, biding my time while he approached again. He nodded.
"The whole army has," He said, "A fallen Greek-Atlantian diety whose destruction would unleash the apocalypse, the goddess Appolymi and her loyal followers and fellow chained gods and goddesses, the rejects of Atlantis." He laughed and then set to work cutting through the fabric of my thin black sweater at my left shoulder blade, cutting a long line across the fabric to my throat and down the center of my chest.
"The army?" I said, my voice shaky as I tried to stay calm, as the knife dissapeared and he pulled back the sraps of my sweater.
"You see, I'm not a normal, blood and guts, kill without a consience sort of a Daimon. When I turned 27, I promised myself that I wasn't going to lose what made me me-I became a doctor, two years before, and I kept my practice. Now, I put patients under, steal what I need, and tell the poor families that their loved one died under unexpected circumstances. No one asks questions, and as long as I take my victims at random and after suspicion of the last death dies off, I can continue my methods. Working in a practice that also serves pregnant women has its advantages."
He gave a dark smile. "But this is truly a sight to behold- a fallen goddess in my midst. I should be honored. I do only hope that the others will not be mad that I finished this job myself." He laughed again and stood over the gurney, brushing back my hair from my forehead. "Well, maybe I am not too ready to unleash the apocalypse yet. Perhaps I could just drain a bit of your blood, day by day, and then negotiate with the others to see what they'll want to do with you. Perhaps we could sell what is left of you to Stryker." He grinned wider and ran his hands back down my cheeks, to my throat. "You know, I think that is what I'll do. But first, a taste test, how does that sound?"
He leaned down to run his tongue along my throat, and then I closed my eyes, mentally screaming. I remembered Spawn's ability to read the minds of anyone, anywhere, and then I shouted out SPAWN SAVE ME, THE DOCTOR IS A DAIMON AND HELPING THE ARMY, GOING TO KILL ME, SAVE ME NOW PLEASE!
But to no avail.
The Daimon was making his way to my shoulder blade now, his fangs cutting in ever so slightly, and I squirmed away from him, pain filled and still screaming in my mind for Spawn. I clenched my eyes shut and then screamed out in pain when the long, sharp fangs cut down into my left shoulder and my lifeblood began to drain into the Daimon's body like antibiotics from an IV. My mind spun and then I fell back onto the gurney, not fighting my attacker anymore as I fell into the black abyss of unconsiousness.