Halfling (Black Petals Book 1) (8 page)

“Are you expecting anyone?” Crispen asks sounding confused.

I shake my head and stand up before wiping away my tears.

Crispen is at my side in an instant. “I don’t hear anything,” he states blankly to himself, looking confused. He presses his ear to the door. He then looks through the peephole, before I can. “I don’t see anyone either,” he whispers in a rush. Then he looks like he’s thinking. I reach for the lock, and he slaps my hand out of the way. “If I don’t hear anything, that means we should definitely not open the door,” he instructs in a very serious tone, one that makes my blood run cold. Whatever it is in his tone, it makes me not want to open that door. What if he
has
been protecting me from my kidnappers and the knock on my door was from one of them? I shudder at the thought, even though I think it’s very unlikely.

“
Shit,
I let myself get distracted for
one
minute,” he grumbles to himself.
Crispen’s lips are suddenly at my ear. “Don’t open this door, and stay away from it. I’m going out the back to see who it is,” he whispers intensely, so quietly that I barely hear. I swallow hard at the grim sound of his words and nod.

Then as he zips to the patio door so fast that I jump. I’ve never seen anyone move so fast. Am I seeing things? I listen to what he told me and jump out of the way of the door. I then sprint to the patio door and lock it tightly just in case. I move away from the glass door and take a seat on the couch, my heart racing. Another knock sounds on the door, but it is cut off by a shout. I race to the kitchen and clutch the biggest, baddest knife that I have in my fist tightly.

A rumbling sound catches my attention, and I glance over to the kitchen table to see that Crispen set his phone there, and someone is calling him. I stare at the screen. The caller ID says that the hospital is calling. This caller ID pops up on his phone all the time, yet he doesn’t work at the hospital. Curious, I hit the answer button. I immediately feel guilty for invading his privacy.

I don’t say anything after hitting the answer button. I just hold the phone up to my ear and listen. After a moment, an urgent voice shouts into the phone. “Crispen?! I’m on my way, what’s going on? I just got your text message. Where are you exactly?” It’s a female voice on the other end. Jealousy overwhelms me. He
has
been slipping off to be with another girl while on ‘work’ calls. Okay, again,
why
am I jealous? He’s not
mine
! Maybe I should be a little upset because he changed this girl’s caller ID in his phone to
hospital
, but I really have no reason to be jealous or angry with him for spending time with someone else. I don’t have feelings for him. Why do I keep having to tell myself this?
Do
I have feelings for him? Suddenly I’m second guessing myself.

“This isn’t Crispen. It’s Megan,” I answer the girl calmly. If I was normal, I would’ve hung up and pretended like I hadn’t touched his phone and invaded his privacy.

“Where’s my brother? Is he alright?” she demands, in an almost panicked tone. “Do you know the address?!” Oh, this is the sister he mentioned. I feel stupid for thinking otherwise.

I hesitate. “Uh, he’s outside of my house.” I give her the address. Did he text her before he ran out the back door? I was distracted and didn’t notice. I check his messages quickly and see that somehow he did.

“Okay, thank you. Megan, stay right where you are. Don’t leave the house. Hide in a cupboard or closet if you can. If you hear
anything
, don’t come out. No matter what you hear. My brother or myself will come find you as soon as we can,” the woman instructs in a gentle but rushed voice. I’m not stupid. I can sense the urgency in a person’s tone, and I’ve sensed it in both Crispen and his apparent
sister’s
tone. I didn’t even know he had a sister until a few minutes ago. I really
don’t
know much about him, do I? I’m confused as to why his sister’s number is in his phone under the hospital as the caller ID. She hangs up the phone, before I have the chance to ask her any of my millions of questions.

I shove the phone into my pocket and dash out of the kitchen, up the stairs, and into my bedroom. I take a quick peak out of my bedroom window and see nothing but the usual, cars, my neighbors, and the odd cat or dog. No sign of anyone at all. I then rush over to my closet and throw garbage bags of old clothes to the side, making room for myself in the back. I huddle in, shut the door, and then pile the bags back up in front of me, so I’m not visible.

I pull out Crispen’s phone and make sure that it’s on silent, before I close my eyes and try to focus on something completely irrelevant to anything. I once heard that doing math takes every part of your brain and allows you to think of nothing else besides the math problem at hand, so I try this. I add small and large numbers in my head. I think it helps, maybe a little anyway.

I hear a gun shot, and I flinch violently. This time, I don’t feel like crying, I’m out of tears. Crying has gotten me absolutely nowhere thus far. Instead, I just continue with my silly math problems.

I expect to hear sirens eventually but none come. You’d think that after hearing a gunshot, someone would call the cops. Apparently not. Maybe my senior citizen neighbors were too deaf to hear it at all.
That’s sure a reassuring thought.

When I hear someone rustling around downstairs yelling and cussing—Crispen, I am tempted to jump out of the closet, but I remember what his sister told me. She told me to stay put until one of them came to find me. A few moments later, I hear her voice downstairs as well. Her voice is a high-pitched squeal, she sounds like one of those super girly, always excited, but friendly women.

“No, I didn’t have the slightest clue they were coming. I didn’t sense or hear them. My mind was elsewhere. I wasn’t paying enough attention to my surroundings. So, yes, it’s
my
fault that they got so close,” Crispen says in a regretful voice followed by another cuss and a bang like he’s hit something. Their voices get closer, Crispen and his sister are likely climbing the stairs right now.

“Well, I guess it doesn’t matter now. Everything worked out. It’s a damn good thing Mason let me in on all of this, or I could’ve been halfway across the world while you got your ass kicked today. Do you see why I worry about you? You really make me wonder sometimes you know,” the woman chimes brightly. “I can’t believe they got away again.
Again
, Crispen. How do they keep doing that?”

The sound of footsteps enter my room, and the closet slides open. I wonder if they’ll be able to find me under these bags.

“Where the heck is she? I can hear her,” the woman wonders. How the hell can she hear me? I don’t hear myself.

Crispen chuckles, and the sound of crunching garbage bags fill my ears. He’s found me. Light streams into my hiding place, and I stare up at Crispen and a beautiful, blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl. Her appearance is very much like Crispen’s, but far more feminine.

“Wow, when I told you to hide, I was thinking you’d go stand in the pantry or something. Good job,” the woman giggles in a crystal-like voice. “I’m Aria, Crispen’s favorite sibling.”

I look to Crispen. He has more than one sibling? “How many siblings do you have?”

He looks weary. “A sister—Aria who travels a lot, and a brother—Mason who lives with me, though I haven’t seen much of him lately, since I’ve been around here.” Crispen extends his hand to me and helps me up.

“What just happened?” I ask the both of them referring obviously to the situation that just went down.

They exchange a quick look, and Aria’s eyes bulge, as if passing some sort of silent message to Crispen. “You know, Crispen, it’s not breaking any rules to tell her anything if she’s one of them. She was born into this and actually has a right to know.”

I wait eagerly for some answers.

Crispen’s jaw clenches. “What she doesn’t know, won’t hurt her. What she does know, will hurt her, you know that.”

Aria laughs loudly in a mocking tone. “Yeah, because that’s how things have gone so far, right? That’s why you haven’t left her side in over five weeks? That’s why Mason called me to rush over here a few weeks ago, because you have everything under control,
right
? If that’s so, then I’ll just go back to Australia and resume my vacation that you guys interrupted. Obviously, what she doesn’t know
is
hurting her.
I
think it’d be safer for her to know everything. I mean, the guy showed up at her front door today, he’s getting less shy about his attacks
obviously
.”

Crispen bites his cheek. “I’m not going to say anything to her, Aria, so stop causing a scene.”

Aria rolls her eyes and turns to me. “He’s a jerk. I don’t know how you put up with him.”

I keep my expression flat and don’t answer. I don’t know what to say, because I don’t understand what they’re talking about.

The sound of glass breaking behind the two of interrupts us and startles me. Someone dressed in all black flies right through the large window in my room and rolls gracefully onto my bedroom floor. I recognize the face immediately. It’s Blayk.

I gasp in surprise. Not only does the sound of breaking glass and the human catapulting through my second story window frighten and confuse me, but the way my intruder lands gracefully on his knee in a lunge position, as if he’s some sort of ninja also throws me for a loop. How in the hell does one manage to do that?

In an instant, I’m being yanked up and dragged out of the room by Aria. I don’t resist her pull, because I’m not about to stick around the same room as that crazy man. I can’t wrap my mind around what I’ve just seen, but I know that I have to get out of here and fast. Aria pulls me out of the house and throws me into Crispen’s car, before she jumps into the driver’s seat.

“Where’s Crispen?” I demand, glancing up at the broken window. I expect to see Blayk and Crispen pushing each other around, but all I see is a broken window and an empty room.

“He can handle himself. I need to get you out of here or Crispen will kill me,” she says in a rush, an apologetic look on her face.

“What is going on!?” I yell, anger and confusion overwhelming me. I feel my cheeks flush. Why won’t they tell me anything? My house is under attack,
I
am under attack, so I think I deserve to know what’s going on.

“Apparently he’ll kill me if I explain anything to you. Sorry, Megan,” she mutters, and the car lurches ahead. As we’re turning the corner, I watch in the side mirror as a body falls from my window and lands harshly onto the ground in a heap. I can tell by the clothing and hair that it’s Crispen. I shout loudly for Aria to turn around. She sees what I see, but she doesn’t stop.

“I’m sorry, Megan, this probably looks terrible. I promise you that Crispen is fine. He will be fine,” Aria pleads for me to calm down.

“He just fell from a second story window, straight onto his back! Even if he is okay, he needs to go to the hospital!” I shout, and reach for the lock on the door. I’ll jump out of this moving car if I have to.

“Megan, don’t you even
think
about it!” Aria screeches and hits the lock button, locking my door again. “He is fine! He knows what he’s doing, trust me!”

She hits the lock button repeatedly as she drives, so I can’t jump out.

Five minutes later, we pull up to a high-end apartment building and she parks the car in an underground parkade. She leads me to an elevator and then up to the second floor where we stand in front of apartment 224.

“It’s your sister, open up, Mason,” Aria says in a sing-song voice hardly loud enough for me to hear. She doesn’t even knock, but the door opens and a male with dark blonde hair and brown eyes opens the door. This must be Aria and Crispen’s brother Mason. Although his hair is slightly different than theirs, and his eyes a different shade, he bears the same jaw line and dimples as his siblings. His gaze lands directly on me.

“This is Megan, Crispen’s…
friend.
The girl he’s been with all the time lately,” Aria introduces me perkily.

Mason doesn’t look surprised. He smiles kindly and takes a step back, welcoming us in. So
this
is Crispen’s apartment. His
real
home. I glance around at the tope walls and white furniture. I guess being a doctor, he can afford to live like this. What about his student loans though? Surely he has tons of them racked up.

This apartment doesn’t look recently moved into. It looks like they’ve been living here a while. More evidence that Crispen was never my neighbor.

I wonder what Mason does for a living, as I take in all of the high-end decor.

“I’m Mason, Megan. It’s nice to finally meet you,” Mason greets me and shakes my hand. “Where is our brother, sister?”

“He’s caught up with a minor disruption. He should be here soon,” Aria tells him flippantly. One wall of Mason and Crispen’s home catches my eye. The left wall is decorated from top to bottom with all different kinds of knives and
swords
. The two siblings catch me staring wide-eyed.

“Quite the collection,” I admire awkwardly. I’m admittedly freaked out. I’ve heard that collecting these sorts of things is a fairly common hobby, but I’ve never seen anything like this.

Mason grins. “You like them? Crispen and I collect them. You should see our training room!” he says enthusiastically. He obviously has a passion for weapons like these.

I catch Aria scowling at him. “Crispen would kill you. He doesn’t want Megan to know anything.”

They share a silent exchange. I break it. “Okay, this is getting a little obsessive, don’t you think? I think I should get to know what it is that is happening around me, because quite obviously it’s something that I should know about.”

“I like her. She has balls, and Crispen needs someone to keep him in line,” Mason observes and then glances to Aria. “If you’re not going to tell her, then I will, because this is just stupid and silly. There is no reason for him not to tell her. If she doesn’t find out everything soon, then she’s going to be dead, and I’m pretty sure he’d rather have her alive. It’s safer that she know. She’s in this too deep now. Unless we somehow how miraculously get rid of every single
person
that wants her dead, then this is going to affect her for the rest of her life. She’s going to have to know more eventually, so why not start today?”

Aria shrugs. “It’s your head, not mine. Go for it, I agree. You’re taking the fall for this one though, Mason, we both know why he doesn’t want her to know anything. It’s not safe for her to know anything either. Either way she’s kind of screwed.”

Mason seems unbothered by this. He motions for me to take a seat at the kitchen table. Aria and I sit down. Mason looks around the room and then grabs the table salt. He sits down with us, then he pours a little bit of salt onto the table. How can I just sit here after watching my house get invaded and Crispen fall from a flipping window? At least I’m about to get answers. Finally.

“Do you like salt, Megan?” he asks me. I’m surprised by the weird question. I shrug.

“I guess. I don’t know. It’s fine,” I answer skeptically, not sure what this has to do with anything.

Mason digests this, nodding slowly for a moment. “Hmm,” he mumbles. “Set your forearm on the table.” I do, again confused by what this has to do with anything.

He takes the salt shaker and turns it upside down over top of my wrist. Salt falls to my skin. Aria and Mason stare at it like they’re waiting for something. After an awkward minute, I shake the salt off onto the table. You can say weird.

Mason looks to Aria and scrunches his eyebrows together, then he disappears into a back room and returns with a brown, bronzy looking knife. I become understandably a little bit uncomfortable.

He sets it down onto the table between me and him.

“Touch that,” he instructs and looks to me expectantly.

“Okay?” I look at him carefully, attempting to understand what the point of this is. I slowly move my finger towards the blade and touch it. Immediately, a harsh burning sensation radiates from the point of touch, up my finger, up my hand, and then up my arm. I remove my hand before the pain can climb any higher, and I shout in pain and shock. What the hell is that? It feels like I just got electrocuted.

“The metal that knife is made from is brass. It’s the only weapon that can kill a demon,” he explains. Then he lies one of his own fingers down on the metal. Aria does the same. “To be blunt and straight forward, you, Megan, are part demon.” He motions to himself and then to Aria. “
We
are the things that kill demons. See, the knife doesn’t burn
us
, but look at
your
hand.”

I glare at him, signifying that I’m not at all amused by this blasphemy. I don’t find this funny at all. I look down at my hand and see that it’s bright red as if irritated by a chemical or something, then I look to their hands and see that the knife has not bothered either of them one bit.

“Your father was a demon, so that makes you half-demon or what we call a halfling. Since you’re not a full demon, you have a soul, and you’re basically human because the demon virus in your blood doesn’t become activated until you lose your soul,” Mason continues, even after taking in my look of disgust and annoyance. I don’t even know what to say.
Demons?
Good one, guys.

“You’re in for some trouble, Mason. Crispen’s coming up the stairs cussing if you don’t hear that,” Aria says through a giggle, like she finds this all amusing. Then she looks towards me, amusement framing her face. “This should be good. Be ready for a fight.”

Mason doesn’t look bothered at all. How does Aria know that Crispen is coming up the stairs? I look around the room quickly for a security camera screen or something that will explain her observation. I come up blank.

Before I have the chance to think about it any further, Crispen bursts through the door. “Don’t you dare, Mason!” he shouts, anger clear in his expression. I’ve never seen Crispen so angry. If I thought he upset earlier, I’ve just been proven wrong.

“She has the
right
to know! It’s dangerous for her to not know!” Mason shouts in an equally angry tone.

Crispen rubs the back of his neck with his hand like he always does when frustrated or nervous.

Mason stands from his spot at the table and slams his fist down. So much for the easy going guy he seemed like a few minutes ago. “Crispen, you’re not thinking about this rationally! You’re being ridiculous. How do you not see that?! If Aria and I are going to be helping you out with her, then we agree that she has to
know
.”

Crispen grabs a knife from the wall of knives and hurls it at Mason, but Mason is quicker, dodging the knife incredibly fast and chucking the brass blade from the table at Crispen. It slices deep into his stomach and blood oozes out grotesquely. I scream, both in terror and surprise. Mason won the argument alright, and it’s going to cost Crispen his life. I automatically reach for Crispen’s phone in my pocket, and I am about to dial 911 when Aria snatches it from me.

“You bastard,” Crispen growls and pulls the blade from himself. I wince just watching it. How in the hell did he just do that? Blood oozes from him, slapping into the ground. He’s losing way too much blood. I glare at Aria as if she’s insane. Why don’t I have my own phone with me?

Crispen then throws the knife at Mason who dodges it nearly effortlessly. The knife slices into the wall behind him.

I sure as hell don’t want to be in the path of a flying knife, so I rush to the far end of the room and glue my back to the wall in terror. Crispen is standing in front of the door, so escaping the building is not an option. He removes his shirt hastily as if it’s getting in the way and tosses it to the side. The gaping hole that I expect to be in his stomach is nonexistent. All there is is blood, but it’s not dripping to the ground anymore, he’s stopped bleeding.

Mason lunges to grab the knife that’s stuck in the wall. He moves so fast that I hardly even see him move.

“Crispen, she watched you fall from a window, land on your back, and then show up here all fine and dandy. Now she’s seen a knife go straight through you, you pull it out, and chuck it at Mason. She’s looking at you like you’re some sort of
thing
right now, because to top it all off, you just healed completely in the blink of an eye from a normally fatal wound. Normal people don’t do any of that! I think she already knows that
something
pretty fucked up is going on, Crispen!” This time it’s Aria that shouts. She approaches me with her hands raised in surrender as if she thinks I may be afraid of her or something. I’m truthfully not sure if I’m scared of her. Should I be? I’m more scared of Crispen and Mason right now, you know, the ones throwing around knives like they’re toys, not deadly weapons. “Now, would you two quit fighting? She’s obviously terrified and about to go into shock if she hasn’t already. Normal people don’t have knife-throwing parties in their homes!”

Crispen cusses and kicks one of the white couches which is now covered in his crimson blood. A deafening crack sounds, and I know he’s broken a wooden piece of its structure.
Ow.
I wonder how his toe feels.

Mason simmers down easily and takes his seat again at the table like nothing just happened, but Crispen remains standing. For a moment, his back is to Aria and me, then a moment later, he slowly turns to face me. He’s quite obviously still angry at both of his siblings. He flashes a quick glare at Mason, glances to Aria momentarily, and then his eyes finally land back on me. A sad expression arranges in his facial features, and he looks deeply saddened and frustrated. He actually looks exhausted.

“I want to start by saying that, Megan, I’m sorry for what this conversation will cause in the future for you, but these two are right, you need to know what is going on so we can keep you safe. Either way, you’re in danger. I don’t know what the most poisonous route is for you. They both suck and will probably have the same outcome unfortunately.” Crispen fills his cheeks with air and then lets it escape in a huge sigh. “Aria, Mason, and I are immortal. We were born or I guess
made
in the 1700s by alchemists in search of a way to rid the world of the overwhelming numbers of demons wreaking havoc on humans.” He continues to stare at me. He gages my reaction.

I stare back at him, my body not allowing me to move in any way.

He continues, “We were the first hunters, but we are certainly not the only ones alive today. Demons are wicked creatures from hell, or whatever you want to call it. They come from a realm of pure evil. They live off of human souls. They create more of themselves by removing one’s soul and performing some weird ritual thing.”

Crispen pauses to again to take in my reaction to his words, then he continues. “Demons can sometimes, but not often, procreate with humans. Your father was a demon, so you are therefore half-demon. Although rare, halflings like you, do exist throughout the world. Usually, halflings die at birth. Those who don’t, are either left with their human parent to live a human life, or the demon parent decides to find them once they’re eighteen, train them, and make them a pure blood demon by tearing out their soul. I don’t know much about how it works honestly, because I’ve only met a handful of halflings. I mean, they get a choice. They either get their souls torn out, or they can choose death. Obviously death would be the better choice,” Crispen says in a very fast rant. Normally I’d be screaming at him to put a shirt on, but I can’t bring myself to care about his half-naked body right now. “Beyond having you touch brass, I can’t really prove that you’re half-demon. I mean, I guess you could ask your father about your lineage, but I doubt that you want to do that as he’s kind of an ass. We’ve had our run-ins with him over the years. I
can,
however, prove that I am immortal.” He gestures to where the knife went through him only a couple minutes ago, the gaping hole that gushed blood and somehow disappeared.

Mason grabs a beer from the fridge and offers me one. I somehow manage to shake my head. Normally, I would think that Crispen was some kind of wacko, but the thing is, Aria is right. Today, I’ve watched Crispen fall from my upstairs bedroom window to the ground and be totally uninjured; I watched him move impossibly fast; and also get impaled, pull out the knife, and heal completely in
seconds
. I’m inclined to listen to what he has to say merely because I’ve seen the impossible today, and I am desperate for answers, although I cannot even digest that I could possibly be half
demon,
because that’s just terrifying, insane and crazy. I think back to the many horror movies I’ve seen. I hate horror movies by the way. All I can see are entirely black eyes and death. Black eyes. The thought takes me back to Landon’s eyes. They were black.
Oh my god.