My Demon (23 page)

“I’m going home Bec. I’m so glad you’re here for me,” she said.

Becky clambered off the sofa and grabbed Alex in an uncoordinated hug.

“I’m so sorry Alex, I’m so sorry.” Becky cried against her shoulder. Alex cuddled back with loose arms and stared past her at Clive. The image of his face bubbled and shimmered, his shape growing and shrinking as his other body tried to appear. She thought it might be her mind playing tricks, but a trickle of fear worked its way into her bones, she needed to get out of the house before he changed for good.

Pulling away from Becky, she picked up her bag, shrugged on her coat and walked out of the house. She needed to get away from the questions, away from the demon, away from the emotions. The air outside was crisp, cooling her skin. Becky stood in the doorway until Alex got to the end of the street, silently watching and unmoving save the odd puff from her cigarette.

 
“I
’m going home, all right!” Alex spun around as soon as she was out of Becky’s sight and confronted Clive. “I’m going home. I will take some more of my mother’s sleeping pills and go to sleep. I promise not to tell anyone what I did, okay? I’ll keep my mouth clamped shut on our little secret, and while the hunt goes on for this imaginary murderer, I’ll get some sleep. And maybe I will not dream of you, or your
other
face. The one that’ll scare me for the rest of my life.”

Clive raised his eyebrows, as if in surprise at her outburst. “Good to know you won’t be telling any other souls.”

“Well, at least I can’t count you. How can someone as evil as you have a soul?” She spat the words at him. “Get away from me.” She jabbed at him. “Leave me alone. I never want to see you and your other face ever again. I’m going to ignore the blue smoke stuff and just get on with my life best I can.”

“The Podis will kill you,” Clive said after an extended pause.

“You know what? Good. I hope they do.” She paced back and forth. “I deserve to die. I should overdose on my mother’s sleeping pills, save the world from more murders.”

“I can’t let you do that.”

“Why? Why do you care so much?” Her breath hitched as she tried to rein in her emotions. “Get someone else. Someone who enjoys killing. Why me? What did I do to deserve this?”

“Because of your importance in events beyond all our control.”

“Like I give a shit. Look, just fuck… off… go… away…,” she said each word slowly, jabbing her finger at his chest.

He took a step back, perhaps surprised at her strength of conviction, against him and her actions. She hoped he might go off in a puff of smoke, walk through a wall, whatever, she didn’t care so long as he disappeared. The demon flashed the ghost of a smile, and took two quick steps forwards so that he almost touched her, then without warning, shoved Alex up to a garden wall. She hit the bricks hard, her back screamed in pain, but before she could say a thing, he pressed up against her and started trying to kiss her.

“Oi!” she said, her voice muffled by him.

If anything, he kissed her more vigorously, rubbing his body up and down hers.

“Get off me!” Her arms flailing, she hit and kicked him, but Clive was far stronger than her, also willful and eager. His kisses worked their way down her neck, and to her disgust, Alex let out a small gasp of pleasure. Encouraged, Clive clamped his mouth back down on hers. His dick had gone hard, and unable to stop herself, Alex squeezed a hand between their bodies and ran her fingers over the red cat suit, feeling the erection grow and pulse.

“I don’t want to,” she gasped as he moved his kisses down to her cleavage. But her body disagreed, arching towards Clive as one of his hands burrowed under her shirt. He pulled at her bra and forced one of her breasts out then tweaked the nipple until shudders ran through her body and her breath shorted to excited pants.

Unable to resist, Alex grabbed him, rubbing hard against the cat suit, suddenly acutely aware of how much she wanted him inside her. Clive stuck his other hand down her trousers, past her underwear and straight to the small bush of hair. Alex knew she was moist and ready, and Clive moved two fingers between her lips, her hips pulsing rhythmically towards him.

Somehow, she managed to say, “Home, not until we’re home.”

Clive nodded and put his arm around her waist, part carrying, part dragging her through the empty streets. She opened the front door to find the rooms quiet and dark. Not bothering about the creaky stairs, Alex hurried straight to bed. Clive closed the door behind him and pushed home the little bolt.

Alex was already stripping her clothes off. Moments later, she stood there, naked.

Clive’s cat suit shimmered before disappearing, leaving a hard muscle-bound body. He took three steps across the room, lifted Alex off her feet and tossed her on the bed. He climbed on top and pressed down hard on her and into her. All thoughts of murders and crunching tires evaporated. She clutched at his back, the extra heat making her senses overload. Too quickly she climaxed, and happy to help Clive finish, she worked her hips to maximize his orgasm. Panting from exertion, he collapsed on top of her before rolling off to the side with a deep sigh. Clive snuggled up against her and began tracing a finger around her nipples, making the sign for infinity on her skin.

“Do you live forever?” she asked, now sleepy. Her eyelids refused to stay open. She allowed them to shut and snuggled closer to the demon and the oblivion he now afforded her.

“Forever and ever,” he whispered as she took the first deep breaths of sleep.

The last thing she felt before sleep took her was the demon taking hold of her hands and flooding her with his healing powers.

Alex slept fitfully, with uncomfortable dreams of fast cars and death, lakes of blood, and everywhere she looked—Jeremy’s green eyes searching for her. When the digital numbers of her alarm clock ticked over to seven o’clock she gave up on sleep. Clive had apparently puffed out during the night, and guilty thoughts nagged at her. In the hours following her boyfriend’s death, she’d slept with Clive. What possessed her to do such a disrespectful thing? She wondered if Clive had forced her, what did he call it—persuasion? She stifled a sob with the back of her hand. Jeremy was dead.

Murdered, she reminded herself, he was murdered. She couldn’t bring herself to admit further. Maybe after more time had passed.

Tired and emotionally bereft, Alex stumbled downstairs, wondering if Lily would be up and about yet. The morning was still young, even for her newly sober mother. Alex’s stomach rumbled, and thinking of food, she entered the living room. Nothing could prepare her for the mayhem she found there.

Lily had fallen impressively off the wagon during the night, maybe the news of Jeremy pushed her over the edge. Alex surveyed the destruction. She counted three empty bottles of wine and a fourth on the floor. Her mother must have knocked it over as the bottle lay on its side on the carpet surrounded by a large crimson stain.

Alex sniffed the air, it was sickly sweet and alcoholic, and she prayed the stink was only the spilled wine. Taking a few more steps into the room, Alex picked up one of the empties. Small drops of something wet covered the bottle. Stretching to peer around the sofa, Alex saw what she’d dreaded—crimson vomit spattered on the side of the sofa and all over the carpet. The stench hit her, and all thoughts of food fled as she circumvented the splash zone and walked gloomily towards the kitchen in search of cleaner.

Alex scrubbed for almost an hour. Lily had used the sink as well, which she’d then tried to wash down the plug hole. Considering how inebriated she must have been, that was at least something, but meant Alex had to unclog the drain before any cleaning started. As the clock’s hands nudged past eight o’clock, she opened the downstairs windows, braving the chill autumnal air in an attempt to clear the remaining underlying stench of vomit. Lemon scented bleach and carpet cleaner blanketed the odor, but the odd waft kept hitting her nose, and after searching the living room and kitchen for sick she’d missed, Alex decided there was little more she could do, and sat at the table, hands wrapped around a hot mug of tea, shivering in the breeze.

Her mind drifting, she returned to the night before, tears welled in her eyes. After taking a couple of deep breaths, Alex chastised herself. She was tired of crying, tired of feeling so worn down and out of control. Clive had walked into her life such a short time ago. He’d thrown her on a roller coaster of death and destruction. A noise from above drew Alex from morbid thoughts, and she listened to her mother trip and fall then slam the bathroom door closed. Even one floor below, there was no mistaking the sound of her retching into the toilet. More bloody cleaning, Alex thought, drinking her tea before it cooled too much, already mentally preparing for mopping upstairs.

The toilet flushed, and Alex guessed her mother was brushing her teeth. Alex heard Lily clearing her throat after each swill, no doubt trying to rid her mouth of lingering lumps of half-digested food. The door was swung open with too much force, and bounced off the radiator in the bathroom. One day, her mother would break the door, she thought. Alex waited for Lily’s bedroom door to slam, fully expecting her to sleep off her hangover. Instead, Alex’s ears pricked up as clumsy feet began tackling the stairs.

Moments later, Lily stumbled into the living room chattering nonsensically to herself, “Stupid woman, can’t even stay sober for a few days. No wonder your own bloody daughter hates you so much…” Lily paused. “Bloody hell she’s already been up. Fuck,” Lily swore.

Alex heard the windows close with a soft clunk, and then what she thought might be her mother flopping down on the sofa.

Frozen in place with her hands wrapped around her mug, Alex stared at the kitchen door hoping her mother would go back to bed now she realized everything was already lemony fresh. She couldn’t face more sympathy and questions concerning Jeremy’s death, and glaring at the door, she willed her mother upstairs. The sofa springs creaked as Lily got up, and Alex stretched forwards and listened for the sound of heavy feet on the stairs.

Steps approached the kitchen door, and for a second Alex contemplated rushing out the back and hiding in the shed. Lack of outdoor clothing and time to find the key fixed her to the seat as the doorknob turned and Lily peeked inside.

Alex’s expression fell as her mother’s face came into view. The surreal feeling that had been following her around came back. “No, it can’t be,” Alex whispered as her mother spied her daughter, and entered with an apologetic smile.

“I’m so sorry. I know I drank last night, and I’m so sorry about the mess. I thought I’d be up before you, and clean the wine and everything up…” Lily stopped, noticing the look of horror on Alex’s face. “Oh, how tactless of me, how could I forget about Jeremy,” she said. She welled up and a couple of tears ran down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”

Alex stared as her mother came closer and in an awkward moment, attempted to hug Alex. When she received no reaction from Alex, Lily released her and crossed the kitchen to the kettle and set it boiling.

“I’m so sorry Alex. The police came and told me they dropped you off at the park, told me what had happened. I don’t know how you haven’t collapsed in a heap, how dreadful,” she rambled on. “I don’t suppose you’d recognize the lad who did this? The police said they had no leads at present, said they’re taking Jeremy’s minibus in for processing, whatever that is. I guess they’ll take fingerprints or something.” The kettle turned off with a snap, and Lily got a mug and popped a teabag inside. “You want another?” she asked. Alex stared at Lily, offering no indication one way or the other. “I’ll brew you one then,” she continued, and took the empty mug from between Alex’s hands and rinsed it in the sink. “A good cup of tea’ll make you a bit better.” She poured the hot water, and the teabags made a satisfying
fush
sound as they swelled in the mug. “I waited for you… for a while,” she went on with her aimless chatter. “But you were gone so long, I couldn’t resist. My will power … slipped. So much has happened. First Mr. Duggan. Then his cat—did I tell you I found her dead behind the sofa? Poor mite must have inhaled too much smoke. Should have taken her to the vet. And then Jeremy… It was all too much. Especially when you didn’t come home.” She stirred the teas. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make such a mess of the living room,” she said, her head tipped as an indication of shame.

Alex guessed her mother had guzzled the first three bottles down, and attempted the fourth when she went over the limit. She hadn’t even used a glass. She’d simply swigged from the bottle. A fresh pang of guilt hit Alex, as she realized if she’d just come straight home as the police had suggested, her mother wouldn’t have had a chance to go out and get the booze. She’d have stayed dry.