Demon Accords 6: Forced Ascent (17 page)

“
Lisa
is right.  The ridicule of her school peers will be sufficient.  Taylor, you must not defend us to them.  If they say we are drunken autistic people, so be it.  If they say foul and nasty things about us, it does not matter… to us and ultimately… to you.  Do you understand?” Tanya said.

“Yyes ma’am,” Taylor said. 

Stacia moved over next to her and pointed at me.  “Look at him.  Every time they say something horrible, you smile, nod your head, and remember the truth.  Agree with them.  Change their words in your head from ugly to whatever adjectives you prefer.  It’ll drive them nuts and remove the sting from their attack. 
You
know the truth.  Trust me, high school is not forever.  It’s gonna suck for the next few days, but you have to let them have their snotty comments.”

The girl nodded and Marnie was looking hopeful.

“I still say she should be punished,” Arkady rumbled.

“We don’t punish children like that, for two major reasons.  First, it’s not who we are.  Second, does
he
look like he’s going to allow any harm to the girl?” Tanya said, nodding at me.  “Remember the last time a child was harmed in front of him?”

Maybe that was the brown-haired girl from Grim’s memory.

“Actually, someone tried to kill some kids in South Carolina.  A were… I mean, in a warehouse.  Anyway, that didn’t go so well for the
man
who tried that,” Stacia said, wincing a little.

I didn’t remember that event, but I did remember being told about it after I woke up from getting shot.  A girl named Jetta and her brother, Mack.

“Okay, no more stories in school.  No friends over.  We’re a bunch of drunks,
mean
drunks.  You’re ashamed to even have us here.  You don’t want to talk about it.  Got it?”

“Yes ma’am,” both children chorused. 

“Okay we’re done here,” Tanya said, shooing everyone out and gently pulling me by my hand behind her.

“I think Arkady is mad,” I said very softly to Tanya as we trailed the others into the darkness. 

“He is very old school.  He lives and breathes our security, so he’s less inclined to let people have their mistakes if it endangers us.  Also, Grim makes him afraid and like anyone, he hates to be afraid.”

“Would he have killed the kids?” I asked, troubled by how little I knew about the people around me, how little I remembered.

“I don’t know.  In the old days, the whole family might have been killed for such a transgression.”

I shuddered, thinking of the family lying torn and bloody.  “Tanya, I can’t do stuff like that, or even allow it.”

“I know, my Chosen.  Well, do I know.  If it makes you feel better, even born as I am, I too do not believe such things are warranted.  Trust me, Christian, we will forge our path and still keep our personal honor,” she said, kissing me before pulling me deeper into the shadows of our temporary home.

Chapter 15

The next day was a repeat of the last, without the family drama.  Stacia and I stood day watch, the vamp crew slept, and the family went about its business.  We watched the news, ate steaks and cheeseburgers grilled in my newfound fire pit, and read the newspapers.  The late sports bus brought the kids home from school and as I watched them trudge down the driveway, I could hear laughter and taunts follow them from inside the big yellow vehicle.  I remembered taunts and jeers following me as I had walked in from the bus, too.  Almost daily. At night, Tanya and the others woke and we filled them in.  Later, Arkady and Trenton split the watch while Lydia and Tanya scoped out the news channels.

The day after proved to be our last.  I was just pulling the better part of three chickens from the old steel grill I had laid over the fire when I heard Stacia suck in a quick breath of air.  She was in the barn and I was out back, but it still brought my head up.  Quickly piling the chicken onto a platter, I pushed a hungry Awasos out of my way and moved in to where she was working over the borrowed netbook.  Her head turned my way instantly.

“It’s happened!”

“What did you find?” I asked.

“Just came up on the MSN news.  Three cops got mangled in Baltimore during a traffic stop.  The dash cam from the first responding cruiser shows a big gray van, which was reported stolen. Single cop. Two more Baltimore officers came to back him up and all three got slaughtered.  Mauled and mangled, one apparently stomped flat.  Baltimore PD is in an uproar.”

“Sounds like what we’ve been looking for. Let’s get the packing done so that we can leave when the others wake,” I said.

“I’ll start, but you need to read this,” she said, spinning the computer around so that I could see a blog page she had up.

The Cryptic News
was the banner and the headline was
Hammer of God, part 2.

It’s been a few days, dear readers, since I wrote part 1.  And what a couple of days it’s been.  The power company turned off my electricity without warning, claiming I was past due on my bill.  I wasn’t, but it took an entire morning to get that straightened out.  The IRS sent me a notice that I’m to be audited and someone hacked my website, but trusty Brian had built-in backups so that I could get up and running again.  Sense a pattern here?  I sure do, but that’s just the beginning.

My normally quiet street has been home these last few days to a black sedan filled with men wearing black suits and wearing black sunglasses.  The same sedan seems to appear wherever I happen to be in the city.

I also have other watchers.  There’s a white van driven by two Asian men who seem entirely too interested in my life, and at least two more nondescript vehicles that cling to me like glue.  I hesitate to pin an ethnicity on either of these, but both appear to be foreigners. They all seem to shop at the same sunglass store. That’s just the daytime crew. At night, it gets real interesting.

Another set of watchers comes out after dark.  They don’t use cars and I can’t pick them out the way I can the others.  They just appear out of nowhere.  Exceptionally pale, inexplicably attractive, they are silent and fast, showing up in my favorite coffee shop, local bar, and the deli I live above.  There appear to be two factions: one that seems hostile and the other protective.  Every time a hostile stranger catches me alone in the back of a store or in the ladies room of a restaurant, another one appears.  The second set seems intent on keeping the hostile ones away.  They rarely speak, just a nod to me and then a glower at whoever is acting unpleasant.

What does all this mean?  It’s obvious… I’m on the right track. I’ve found the truth of the matter and it all lies with him and his team.  Powerful forces have taken an interest in my investigation.  Our oh-so-benevolent government is undoubtedly one of the players, but unless I’m mistaken, there are several other global interests involved as well.  And then the others, the ones that remind me most of that beautiful woman in the Youtube video.  You know… the girl with the fangs, the fantastic figure, and the sword who seemingly pounds a military vehicle into scrap.  The one who is always with him. 

Here’s what I think:  There are beings among us, beings of power who have always been among us.  Now that we’ve upset the balance of things, disrupted our own etheric world with our technology, these beings are stepping out, at least some of them.  Others are not so happy about that, and neither is old Uncle Sam.  The plot is afoot.  Stay tuned.

“Kinda short this time,” I noted.  “Looks like Brystol stepped in it deep.”

“What’s your take on the nighttime watchers—the two factions?” Stacia asked.

“The Coven wants to talk to her.  Non-Coven want to prevent that,” I said.

“What non-Coven?”

“Our gang.  Maybe Nika’s having her protected,” I said.

“Would Nika be in charge if Tanya, Arkady, Lydia, and you are all gone?”

“Yeah, I think.  And she knew about Brystol, so it makes sense,” I answered, grabbing up the unneeded papers to burn.  Stacia was organizing the stuff she’d found in today’s batch and I headed down below to pack our few belongings and supplies.  The blood went into the bottom of our four big coolers, the perishable food on top, with bags of ice to cool it all down.  We had few changes of clothes so I just picked up the place, swept it, and burned the sweepings.  No sense leaving hair around for any witchy types to use.

Most of the work done, I divvied up the chicken and gave Stacia her plateful.  ‘Sos was already half done with his and occasionally peeking at mine so I chowed down, checking the time while I did so.  Mid-afternoon. Our vamps were several hours from waking up. Marnie’s kids would be almost done with football and cheer practice. Thinking of the kids brought to mind the awful two days Taylor must have had and how awful high school could be in general.

A thought crossed my mind and then re-crossed it, quickly becoming a full-blown idea. I finished my chicken, cleaned my face and hands, and started toward the Accord.  It was older but sportier looking than the Subaru.

“Hold on, hot shot. I’m coming with you.  Put this on and let’s go,” Stacia said, appearing from the basement and tossing me a white t-shirt.  It was a stretchy performance tee that belonged to Trenton.

“It’s Trenton’s and it’ll be too tight,” I protested.

“Nah, just right,” she said with a grin, “if you’re doing what I think you’re doing.”

I noticed she was wearing yoga pants and a crop top shirt that showed her defined abs and highlighted her other assets.

“How do you know what I’m doing?”

“Because it’s who you are.  It’s what you are.  Come on, we’re wasting time.”

Twenty or so minutes later, we were pulling up to the high school athletic fields, being careful to avoid cameras mounted on the school buildings.  Our timing was close to perfect, as by the time we parked near the bleacher section of the football field, cheer practice was winding down and the first of the football players were emerging from the locker rooms.

We got out and approached the fence nearest the girls, quickly spotting Taylor, who was sitting off to one side, looking miserable, a single blonde girl keeping her company.  The main cluster of cheerleaders was laughing and goofing around, either ignoring Taylor or laughing in her direction.

“Hey, Taylor,” I yelled, keeping my attention on her.  Her friend heard me immediately and looked up, as did a few of the cheer girls.  I yelled her name again and this time, I was rewarded with her disbelieving gaze turning my way.

“Lisa and I came to give you and Luke a ride home, if you don’t mind skipping the bus,” I said, loud enough that the other girls could easily hear me, which wasn’t loud at all because I had all their attention.

Taylor hadn’t moved, instead frozen into a disbelieving lump, and it took her friend, who must be the faithful Lori she had mentioned two nights ago, to nudge her into motion.

“Ah, yeah sure.  Thanks, Tony,” she said. She scrambled to her feet, looking utterly klutzy doing it, but it didn’t matter, as everyone in the immediate area, including the adult coach, was looking at Stacia and me.  I spotted Luke moving along toward his sister, watching us and visibly trying to figure out what was going on.  The exact moment he recognized us was obvious by his sudden lurching stop.  Then, just as abruptly, he began to move toward us, noticeably faster than before.

“Ah, are you sure?  I’m not going to get in any trouble?” Taylor said, approaching us, Lori in tow. 

“Sure, no problem.  Hey, is this Lori?  We can give her a ride home too if you want.”

“Taylor?  Is everything okay here?” the female coach asked, approaching the four of us.  Probably thirty or so, with dark hair and light hazel eyes, she was wearing khakis and a dark blue polo shirt.

“Sure Coach.  These are the friends of my mom’s who are staying with us… you know: the ones everyone was laughing at me about,” Taylor replied, watching me to be sure what she said was okay.

“Laughing?  Did you tell a joke or something?” I asked, pretending not to understand.

“Oh, you know teen girls.  Always razzing each other about something,” the coach said, looking uncomfortable.

“Well, your squad looks sharp,” I half-complimented her.

The coach was flustered, caught between her pleasure at being complimented and her vestigial sense of responsibility for her students.  She opened her mouth to speak just as I gave her a big smile, and no words came out.  Finally, she shut her mouth and glanced at Stacia, then back at me.

“Well, thanks.  Okay then, girls.  We’ll see you tomorrow,” she said with a quick glance at Lori and Taylor and a longer one at me, complete with smile.  She backed toward the other cheerleaders, who were all frozen into stillness, avidly watching us. 

“Hey Luke, Tony and I were in town on errands and thought we’d give you a ride home,” Stacia said to the boy who was now only twenty feet away.

He flushed bright red and glanced quickly at the herd of cheerleaders who were fascinated by the exchange, his feet still moving him closer.

Once he got close enough, he spoke.  “What are you doing?  I thought the leader woman said no talking about you, and here you are?” he asked, his eyes darting between Stacia’s torso, my face, and his sister.