Darkness Brutal (The Dark Cycle Book 1) (20 page)

“That isn’t going to work without the Enochian runes,” Connor says, “and I still don’t have them all memorized. Do you?”

“No,” Kara says, sounding defeated.

Jax raises his hands. “Don’t look at me unless you want someone to recite Hamlet.”

Sid comes forward and hands Connor a small bag he pulled from his pack. “Here’s the sacred dirt.” Then he looks at me, no trace of worry or concern in his voice, as if we’re just standing in the woods chatting. “You only have to open yourself up to your abilities, Aidan. You shouldn’t need anything but your will once you’ve mastered them. These tropes of protection will only matter as much as you want or need them to.”

Is he insane? I’m a human. This is a demon. Yes, a small one, but it has really big claws and teeth. I take the sacred dirt from Connor, turn to the creature, and move to the side. The thing doesn’t seem to understand what’s coming—probably because lower demons have fairly low IQs.

The dirt isn’t foolproof for an eternal prison, but with any luck this demon isn’t strong enough or clever enough to know its way around the stuff.

I need to get it onto the ground, into that circle Kara drew, so I can sprinkle this stuff around it. I move closer, slowly. This isn’t the first time I’ve done this—that’s what I tell myself. I’ve trapped dozens of these bastards. But there’s no getting out of my head the revelation that they can bite me now—they can fight back. God knows what else they could do to me.

But then something dawns on me: if it can get a grip on me, I should be able to get a grip on
it
.

I set the bag of sacred dirt down and slip my fingers inside, coating my palms with its sharp protection. I point to the sack. “Put the rest of this around the circle.”

Kara takes it and moves to obey.

The demon scuttles to another branch on the other side of me in a sudden burst, like a crab. And its form begins to change, getting clearer, as the creature readies to flicker away, likely heading back to its boss with an update on my whereabouts.

Shit.

Before I can second-guess myself, I leap, grabbing it by a bony limb.

It clings to the branch, screeching and flailing in shock and pain from my touch, from the sizzle of the sacred dirt on my hands. The surprise jolts through me too, but I recover faster than the creature does, grabbing it with a second hand and yanking. It springs free of the tree, and I’ve got it. I find my balance and sprint to the circle with it tucked like a football under my arm. But before I reach the circle, the demon digs its claws into my bicep an inch deep, sending me to my knees.

I cry out in pain, fire filling me, making me lose my mind for a second.

“He’s bleeding!” Kara yells, dropping the bag of dirt to run at me.

Connor starts to run over too, but I wave them off with my free hand. Panic overwhelms me, and fight or flight kicks in like a jolt of electricity as words begin to flow from my mouth, words I’ve never heard before, words even I don’t understand.

But the demon does. It screams even louder and unlatches its claws from my arm to lunge for my mouth, nearly slicing off my bottom lip.

Somehow I get to my feet and make it the last three paces to the circle of sacred dirt. I slam the creature into it; its body hits the ground with a loud crack. The words keep coming from my mouth, so fast I can barely feel my tongue anymore as the demon convulses, black foam bubbling through its teeth.

I can feel everyone gaping at me now, fear rolling off them in thick, billowy waves.

“Holy shit,” Jax says. “He’s lit up like ET.”

All I can do is grip a stick in my fist and write in Hebrew, Greek, and Latin in the blood-coated dirt, Palm 91, Zachariah 3:2, then Deuteronomy 9:3: . . .
it is the Lord Your God who passes over before you, as a consuming fire He will destroy them . . .

The demon goes perfectly still at that, as if frozen, and my movements slow. The last letter of scripture trails off in the dirt as my hand goes limp, all my energy gone.

My mouth stops muttering the strange words, my vision turns dull, and my head starts pounding like I’m being whacked by a hammer. Repeatedly.

“Holy shit,” Jax says again, sounding breathless. “What the hell
was
that?”

Connor shakes his head, obviously stumped—and freaked.

Sid says in an awed voice, “Excellent, Aidan. Just stunning.”

Kara hesitates for a second, but then she takes me by the arm, trying to help me to my feet. “Are you okay? My God, Aidan.”

I grip my head, glancing back to make sure the demon’s still trapped. I’m not sure how, but it’s frozen in the same contorted pose of terror, its white eyes now a dull grey. It won’t be any trouble anymore. I don’t think.

“We need to get these cuts cleaned,” Kara says as we head back to the car.

Sid pats me on the shoulder, making me flinch. “Amazing, just amazing.”

“Holy mother of all shit!” Jax is shouting. “Did you
see
that? He was a damn Christmas tree back there.”

“Calm the hell down,” Connor says. “You’re giving me a migraine.”

“What the fuck was that?” Jax continues. “Toward the end his damn eyes were fucking glowing! That was some alien shit, man! Frackin’ Cylon alien shit!” He laughs at the sky.

Sid must really be happy, because he’s not saying anything to Jax about his language.

“You’re not helping,” Kara growls at Jax. She turns back to me. “You’re going to be fine. It’s just a few scrapes.”

I study the gashes on my arm. They’re still bleeding thick red streaks. “I don’t know. That was . . .” Insane. Terrifying. Fucking nuts.

Kara looks like she wants to say something, but she just swallows hard and looks into my eyes. Fear leaks out of her. Fear of me or for me, I can’t tell.

“It felt like a freight train rolling through my body,” I say. It wasn’t like it normally is when I trap a demon—not even a little bit. Something happened. Something took over. Inside me.

Sid stops ahead of us on the trail and turns to face us. “That was your power manifesting itself, Aidan. A stunning and glorifying sight. And we were all very privileged to see it.”

“He was fucking glowing,” Jax says again. The guy has a one-track mind.

“Was I really?” What does that even
mean
? How does someone glow?

“It was awesome, man!” Jax says. “Your skin at that tattoo thing on your arm went marbly and lit-up, and whatever you were writing burned into the ground as soon as you wrote it in the dirt. Then your eyes did this smolder thing for a second.” He looks at me all tense, like he’s mimicking my smolder. “Right after that you went limp.” He smiles as if I should be thrilled at what he’s describing.

I didn’t feel anything hot, didn’t see the words burn in. I didn’t feel anything but pain and the urgency to act. I said words I don’t know. That’s never happened before. I always know—that’s part of my weird thing. I always know. And now, suddenly, I acted without a clue. Like I was being guided.

I wipe my forehead with my hand, and my palm comes away wet with blood.

“I have a feeling that this is just the beginning,” Sid says. “We’re all in for quite a ride.”

TWENTY-SEVEN

Once we’re back at the house, Kara gets the first aid kit. Sid takes it from her, saying he wants to talk with me alone, and leads me into the office.

“Don’t be afraid of your gifts,” he says, rolling a second chair next to the one I’ve plopped myself into. “You’ll learn to use them. And once they’re finished awakening, you’ll be in full control.”

“What do you mean
awakening
?” That doesn’t sound as cool as it should. Not after what happened today.

“That will be a discussion for another day. For right now I want to let you know that I may have found a lead on your family. Your mother’s family, that is.” He studies my wounds.

My pulse picks up at the idea. “What did you find?”

“Are you positive that you want to know these people, Aidan?”

“Why’re you asking that?” Maybe he found something he knows I won’t like.

“Just merely making sure that you want the whole truth. Sometimes it isn’t what we think it will be.”

I pause, looking at the lines and marks working their way up my arm. “Yes, I want to know everything. I need to know.” Because, if anything, today showed me that this thing inside me is a hell of a lot more powerful than I thought. Maybe this is what will save us.

Sid starts cleaning my wounds delicately with a Q-tip, like I’m six. It’s weird. And comforting. He knocks me off balance, but he’s genuine, I think.

Have I finally found someone I can lean on? As he gingerly bandages my wounds, I find myself wanting him to really know me. Like a dad knows his son.

The idea makes my chest ache, as does thinking of my real father, so I just ask, “What have you found?”

“I’m not sure of it all yet, but I have found an address where your mother may have grown up. It’s on the beach, in Malibu.”

“She told me stories about growing up on the ocean. She loved the sea.”

“Well, I’m hoping to get the names of the residents from my contact tonight or tomorrow. I just wanted you to know that I hadn’t forgotten.”

“Thanks.”

“You’ll know the truth soon, son. I promise.”

When I get up to my room, I open the door, and Ava and Holly are sitting on the floor, huddled together near the bed, talking. Ava’s head snaps up, and her hand moves behind her back, hiding whatever she was showing Holly.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you to knock?” she asks with a frown.

“Nope,” I say.

Holly’s eyes grow. “Whoa, what happened to you?”

Ava’s frown deepens. “Did you get in another fight?”

“Demons don’t like being trapped for all eternity,” I say, tossing off my shoes and lying on the bed. “They tend to fight back.”

Ava stands and slips whatever she’s hiding into her bag and shoves it under the bed. “Demons? Really, Aidan, you need to be more careful.”

“No, what I need to do is sleep,” I say, rolling over, too exhausted to find out what secrets Ava is sharing behind my back.

“It’s only six o’clock,” Holly says. “Not much of a party animal, are we? And you left your girlfriend here all day. You need to go hang out with the poor thing.”

“She’s
not
my girlfriend,” I say.

“Well,” Holly says, “she won’t be for long if you keep up that ’tude.”

I growl into my pillow.

They gather their things and leave the room, Ava taking her secret with her. I wonder if I should warn Holly to be careful. Ava isn’t in the best place right now. And what if her powers manifest? Holly would freak.

My head hurts from all the worry and demon fighting. I’ll think about it after some sleep.

I wake in a rush in the middle of the night and sit up in bed, feet finding the floor before I can tell what jolted me. My cuts burn, but I push the sting away. I have to sit for a second, blinking at the darkness, listening, before I feel it again, a quake in the air. Slight, but there.

And then a muffled cry comes from the wall—from Kara’s room. She’s having a nightmare. The conversation with Holly about Kara’s night terrors comes to mind. But why would that affect the air?

I take a deep breath and make myself lie down again, even though I want to go check on her. I’ve done enough already to mess shit up with her. And after today we might finally be in a better place. So I squeeze my eyes shut and hope it’ll pass. I can’t let myself think about how she felt in my arms, the peace that settled around us, the small hum of her pulse in her skin. The night we were together . . . I haven’t slept that good in forever.

“Aidan?” Ava says, her voice thick with sleep.

“Yeah.”

“I know what you’re doing. I can hear your brain arguing with itself all the way over here. Why do you like her so much?”

“Go back to sleep, Ava.”

“I wanna know.”

“Are you gonna do a spell to dig it up if I don’t tell you?”

“Probably.” I hear a smile in her voice.

I think for a second, and then I just say it. “She’s different than other girls. She’s tough, but not in a mean way. She does have this crust around her, but it’s all a facade. It’s how she protects herself. And I want to see deeper into her, to know her. Because she’s strong and complicated and . . . I don’t know. It’s lame.”

“What about Rebecca?” she asks. “Is that how you feel about her?”

I close my eyes, not wanting to think about any of it anymore. I need to go back to sleep. “I don’t feel anything you need to worry about, Ava. Let it go.”

“It’s not the same, I know. But Rebecca is pure and soft. Why would you pick Kara over her? Kara’s so . . . well, Kara.”

I roll over and cover my head with my pillow, groaning. Between the burning of my cuts, the sounds of Kara’s nightmare, and Ava’s pecking, I’m about to jump out the window.

“I think she’s done something to you.”

“Ava! Stop. Kara hasn’t done anything.”

There’s silence for a few beats, and then she says quietly, “You’re not going to kiss her tonight. You may as well just go back to sleep.”

“Thanks for the heads-up.”

“It’s what I’m here for.”

“Aidan,” Mom says, “look.” She points with a charcoal-stained finger at the pen mark on the doorframe where she measures my height. “You’re a giant already.” There’s charcoal smudged on her face too, from her frantic drawing session last night. She must’ve had another vision. She always stays up scribbling strange images of ocean caves and cliffs when she’s had one of those.

I turn and study the ink mark she made over my head. “Was my dad tall?” I ask. I know she carries a sore in her heart that he left behind. But I want to know about him. Is he real?

Maybe he’s not. Maybe I’m not. Sometimes Mom looks at me like I’ll disappear any second.

Now she’s staring at me with a faraway look. I ask so many times about
him,
and she usually gives me a sad look or an angry look, but she never gave me a look like this one before.

“He felt tall,” she says, her voice hollow. It sends a chill over me. Like the voice she makes when she’s in the circle. “Like a king or an emperor.”

“Was he a king, Mom?” I ask, suddenly afraid of the answer. Would he come and take me away from Mom and Ava someday? Take me to some faraway land?

Her brow creases in focus, as if she’s trying to see him again through the fog of time. Her white-blond hair glows with light from the candle behind her, and the smell of sage drifts from her skin.

“No, not a king,” she says with a sad smile. “Or an emperor.”

She turns and walks away, forgetting about the measuring, forgetting about me. “He was just a man.”