Mayhem (19 page)

But what happens next keeps me from contemplating my fellow Mystyx's upcoming issues.

Twan reaches for the door, the one that will take us out of the back stairwell we were using and onto the first floor. We came this way because there were people everywhere in the library, trying to walk down the main steps was going to be like managing a mine field. There was no one in this back stairwell and we presumed that the door out would lead us right along the back sections of the first floor, where books on all types of mythology were stored.

But the door is locked.

Twan pulls at it a couple times, then turns to us. “Is an emergency exit supposed to be locked?”

Pushing Krystal and Lindsey behind me I move to stand right beside Twan. “No. I'm almost certain that would defeat the purpose.”

I wrap my fingers around the knob and try to turn it, but it doesn't move. “Get back,” I say.

I can hear the girls moving behind me. Twan only takes like a step back but he's still beside me.

Then someone else is there, too.

I can't see to my side because my flashlight is aimed in front of me and so are Twan's and the girls'. But pain strikes my arm and ricochets throughout my body. I fall sideways right
into Twan, who readily catches me as my flashlight falls to the floor.

“Think you got the best of me, huh, tracker.”

I hear the voice as I'm struggling to stand upright about a second before I take another blow to the stomach. Twan pushes me to the side then and I hear the connection of fist to flesh. I think Twan hit Mateo. I'm waiting for the adrenaline rush of power I've grown accustomed to feeling when struck or even just angered. But it doesn't come. Instead my
M
burns, and as I look over toward the girls theirs are glowing, too. As I stand up my fists clench at my sides and I push Twan out of the way before Mateo can strike him with whatever is in his hand.

Without even really seeing what Mateo has I lift a hand, catching his wrist before he can complete another swing. Something falls to the ground as I squeeze his wrist, but Mateo doesn't buckle and he doesn't wince in pain.

“Let's just go, man.” I hear another voice and know it's Pace. “We're in enough trouble because of him.”

“Shut up!” Mateo yells.

It's dark in the stairwell except for the flashlights still blaring and the colored light coming from our marks. Colored light that Pace and Mateo can now see but strangely haven't said anything about.

“I am not doing this,” Pace says. “I'm through with this crap!”

Then Mateo does something I don't think any of us saw coming. He turns to Pace and opens his mouth, and from his mouth comes that yucky black smoke we're all used to seeing now. The smoke makes a beeline for Pace, hitting him right in the center of his chest, where it burns a black hole. Pace
opens his mouth to scream but the sound dies. His eyes are black and lifeless as the dark smoke burns him from the inside out, until his lifeless body disintegrates into a pile of ashes on the floor.

As if summoned by the dark power being used, lights flicker on in the stairwell. It's a dim kind of light, like maybe the building's generator finally kicked in.

When Mateo turns again he's looking right at me, his head tilted eerily to the side, like his neck could actually be broken. He looks like Mateo but I don't think Mateo's in that body anymore. He smiles and then starts to chuckle. It's weird to see, but even stranger to feel the connection from him to me. It's dark and it's swirling and I feel the edges of the evil ripple along my skin. It's a familiar sensation, one I at one time believed was right for me. But now I know differently. I've chosen differently.

So with a nod of my head I send Mateo's body flying across the floor to slap into the door just under the neon-green Exit sign.

“What the hell is wrong with that dude?” Twan asks from behind me.

“Get the girls out of here,” I tell him, sensing this fight isn't over.

“No doing,” I hear Sasha say from behind. “We're not going anywhere.”

“We're not leaving you, Jake,” Krystal says.

“I told you before I've got your back, bro. So I'm not leaving either,” Twan says.

I don't have a second to feel touched by their loyalty because demon-possessed Mateo is rising, coming straight at me with outstretched arms and smoke-spewing mouth.

The dark smoke touches my nostrils, moves upward slowly and I start to choke. It's familiar and sweet and intoxicating. But I'm stronger now. I've made a choice.

Lifting my open palm to Mateo I focus all my strength there, pushing him back to the wall, then twisting my hand so that he rolls over, away from me. He's writhing on the floor and I squeeze my fingers together, giving the effect of actually squeezing his neck. The darkness from his mouth swirls and forms shadows on the wall, two standing tall and seemingly looking down on Mateo's body. The shadows peel from the wall with spindly arms that reach for Mateo, pulling him out of my grasp. They cocoon him, I mean they literally wrap him in wave after wave of black smoke until he looks mummified.

“They'll take him back to Charon now,” a voice from behind us states. Another voice I know.

I'm getting ready to turn to the voice when I hear a horrific cry and then Mateo's body, along with the shadows, are gone.

“Holy sh…man, what the hell?” Twan is saying. “This is wild. Did you see that?”

Sasha takes a step to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Yeah, I did. Sorry you had to, though.”

“Nah, you kidding? That was like the coolest and scariest thing I've ever seen,” he says.

“And you can never speak a word about it.”

Oh, yeah, the man with the voice. Turning around, all of us look to the stairs where he's standing.

“Strickman,” I whisper.

He starts to walk down the steps. “Yes, Jake. I told you
once before I knew what was going on, that I saw things the way they really were.”

Sasha grabs my elbow, gasping. “He's not…ah…he's…um…not human,” she finally manages to whisper.

“What?” I ask because really, I don't think I can take another shock today, or this month, or even this freakin' year.

“She's right,” Strickman says. “I'm not human. And she can see me. That's interesting.”

“Wait, what's going on now?” Twan asks.

“He.” Sasha pauses to clear her throat. “He's got great abs,” she manages finally.

Strickman smiles. Twan turns abruptly to Sasha. “What?”

“Ah, I mean, he's really built and has a nice chest and all if you don't count the fins or scales or whatever they are.”

Tossing his head back, Strickman gives a full-bodied laugh.

“Instead of laughing at us don't you think you should explain?” I say.

“Really? He's got great abs?” Lindsey asks, still staring at Strickman, who to us is completely dressed in slacks and a shirt.

“I am from the Majestic,” he says finally, coming to stand between us.

We're all surrounding him, staring like he's a new toy on Christmas morning. The girls are staring a little differently than me and Twan, but we're all interested in what he has to say.

“I'm the son of Pontus and Cylile.”

When none of us respond, he continues, “My father was the god of the Deep Sea and my mother was a water nymph. Hence the gills, as we like to call them.”

“Oh, my…” Lindsey gasps.

“Yes,” Strickman says, smiling in her direction. “I am a god.”

“Yep, he sure is,” Sasha mumbles.

“A god? Here on Earth? In the Lincoln Library?” Twan asks, ignoring Sasha's remark. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“Unfortunately, I'm not, and my presence here cannot be known. I trust you all understand that.”

I'm already shaking my head. “No. I don't understand. What are you doing here? And when did Charon possess Pace and Mateo? Is that the reason they were bullying me all along?”

Strickman shakes his head. “No. That was strictly the boys and their inner issues.”

“What were those shadows that took them?” Lindsey asks.

“Just that, Shadows. Everyone has them. They lie between the border of known and unknown. It's a form of a person's repressed self that can allow its mortal form to be possessed by a demon. That's how Charon takes over a mortal, he attacks their Shadow, bringing forth the rage and anger that has been festering there in the dark.”

“Oh, my…excuse me,” Lindsey says. “OMG, so my shadow can be possessed?”

Strickman shakes his head. “No. Not unless you have some festering rage or anger. Charon needs an evil energy source to feed from in order to possess.”

“So whomever he possesses has to be inherently evil?” I ask. “Like me?”

“You were both, Jake. The Vortex that made a choice. And a good choice you made. I suspect Charon possessed these boys as a final warning to you. You're on opposite sides from him now, he's declared you his enemy.”

“Gee, that just makes my day,” I say with a sigh. “What else can go wrong?”

And just as I speak it, the building starts to shake.

“An earthquake?” Krystal asks.

“No. We're in the eye of the storm,” Strickman says. “In the midst of Charon's clutches.”

The rest
of the night was long, with winds rattling the windows, children crying, grown-ups praying. There was a sort of silent chaos taking over the library.

We'd gone back up to the third floor, sitting in that back room with my dad, Twan's aunt, Krystal's parents and now Mrs. Hampton, Lindsey's legal guardian. It was weird, all of us, including Mr. Strickman, sitting around in one room, wrapped in blankets, silently anticipating the worst.

I wonder what they're all thinking. If anybody else is wondering if this is the end. A part of me doesn't really feel like it is. I feel sort of incomplete, like there's something left for us to do.

Strickman talks to our parents like they've known each other forever. Lindsey's guardian especially. I wonder if they know who and what he really is. And I wonder why he's really at Settleman's, since of course he didn't tell us.

I guess we're back to square one in the question-and-answer session. But you know what, I'm not all that mad about it now. I've learned a lot over the last few weeks, enough, I think, to last me for a good couple more weeks. What I don't know right now, I'm sure is coming. Just as I'm sure Charon's declaration is going to mean something big for me and the Mystyx.

“We'll all have to band together now.” Krystal's mother speaks first. “We must protect them until their time comes.”

Each of us—the Mystyx and Twan—all look back and forth at each other.

“Until what time comes?” Krystal asks her mother, who gives her a small smile.

“She means until it's time for you to battle with Charon again. The designated Guardians were put in place to prepare you for that time. Charon has gotten to most of them. Now, it's up to us, the mortal parents, to make sure you do what you were meant to do.”

My dad says this and my mouth falls open.

Sasha's mother, who had kept her distance from us throughout the night, is silently crying, her hands covering her face as tiny sobs shake her body. I can see that Sasha's shocked that her mother has apparently known all along who and what she was. Her father's betrayal had seemed solitary but now, I think she's feeling it from them both.

Krystal doesn't look shocked that her parents know, which makes me believe she's had a clue as to their knowledge for some time now.

Even Twan's aunt doesn't look surprised. Lindsey's guardian looks as if this moment had been anticipated.

So had they all known? Was this an event in the making before we were even born? And what will happen now?

I don't know if it was morning or night, I just know that some more hours passed. We slept on the floors, woke up and ate the dried foods, drank the bottled water and sat around again, waiting for the storm to pass.

All the while more questions arise in my mind, but a state
of calmness keeps me from asking them. I wonder if that was Uncle William lending me a hand once again.

Or if it was just the calm before the big storm, not this warning we were apparently getting now. But the one that would forever decide our fate.

The first
night back in my bed and it feels heavenly. Not that I'm lying on a sleep-number mattress or anything plush like that, but it's my bed and it just feels good to be back in it. After three long days and two nights cooped up in the library with half the town of Lincoln, a cot on the porch with the open night air might have felt better.

So I'm back in my bed and tomorrow we're back in school. Next week is Thanksgiving. It's also the week of November twenty-first, when Barrow, Alaska, goes into its reported dark days. Sasha still thinks we'll end up there but me, the realistic one, says not. For one, my dad doesn't have money to send me to Alaska and he wouldn't even if he did. After winning the battle with Dumar and having me reinstated in school, his first goal is to see me graduated and accepted into a good college. He's still hoping I'll have some semblance of a normal life. Plus, what good would it be to go to Alaska? Charon can appear anywhere, he can strike here in Lincoln again just as he could across the oceans in China or something. It's not like he needs a passport or visa to travel.

Besides, Sasha saw more magicals in the library, saw their real faces beyond their earthly glamour. That proves there's something still lurking here in Lincoln, something we need to stay here to take care of.

My eyes feel all scratchy, so I close them to get some relief. Sleep comes quickly, exhaustion settling over me like a heavy blanket.

And then the dream begins…

I'm still in bed but I'm not alone. Krystal is there with me, lying right beside me, the hem of her nightshirt riding up so that my hand skims along the smooth skin of her thigh.

She makes this soft sound as we kiss, and every nerve in my body is on end. I'm tingling all over as our kiss deepens and I move so that I'm on top of her. One of my legs falls between hers, my palm moves up from her thigh to cup her unbound breast. And then she makes that sound again and I completely melt.

No, not melt. It's so hot, I'm sweating. My heart's beating wildly as I keep kissing her and she keeps kissing me. I don't know where we are except on a bed and I really don't care. I have no idea what's going on around me, only that her arms are wrapped tight around my neck, pulling me closer, urging me further.

“Krystal.”

I hear her name, but it's not in my voice.

“Krystal.”

There it is again, and I know I didn't say it because my lips are busily nipping a heated path down her neck.

“Yes,” she answers, and at first I think she's just conceding to the pleasure I feel rippling through my body.

But no, she's not talking to me at all.

Pulling back, I'm alarmed to see there's nobody there. No Krystal, just me and my overexcited self. Turning around quickly I'm staring into darkness and a chilly breeze is now greeting my naked body. I reach somewhere, hoping to find
some basketball shorts or something to cover myself. The last thing I want to do is get up from this bed and walk through endless darkness in the nude.

Like someone flicked on a switch, the pitch darkness turns blue, tinted slightly just as I remembered it before. I'm in the Underworld. Now I really want to find some shorts or pants. Fighting demons buff is so not going to work.

When I stand I already have shorts on, don't really know where they came from but I'm grateful just the same.

I hear her name being called again and she's answering.

“I hear you but I can't find you,” Krystal says.

“I'm right here,” I say. But again, I don't think she's talking to me.

I keep walking in the direction I hear the voices, both of them, the boy and the girl.

“Krystal, come on. I'm waiting,” he says, and I swear the voice sounds familiar now.

“I'm coming,” Krystal answers.

Something clenches in my chest at the sound of her voice. She's going to him. She knows who he is. She's always known.

After wandering down the longest hallway ever I see more blue light at the end and I hear the trickling of water. The River Styx.

Moving faster I try to get to the end before the ferry leaves, because I know instinctively there's a ferryboat docked in the water, with a hooded man and his staff waiting to pull off, to take another willing soul into the Underworld.

“Krystal,” I call to her, hoping she'll hear me like she hears the other male voice. But she doesn't answer me.

“Krystal!” I yell louder and start to run.

Laughter answers me. Not demonic but evil just the same.
As I get to the end of the hallway and walk into the clearing I see the one laughing and my entire body freezes.

Franklin.

But then it's not him, at least not the way I remember seeing him when he was a student at Settleman's.

He's bigger now, his body like some teenage bodybuilder. He's wearing jeans and no shirt, his bronze chest glistening in the eerie blue light. His eyes are black but his mouth is smiling. And Krystal's walking straight toward him.

“Krystal, no,” I shout, and she turns.

“I'm sorry, Jake. I have to go,” she says, her hair a wild mess around her head, her eyes just a little wild as she glares back at me briefly.

“No! He's not who you think he is!”

“He's mine,” she says, and the air escapes my lungs.

Falling to my knees I watch as she takes Franklin's hand and he lifts her onto the ferry. He's standing beside the robed man. Charon.

The laughter sounds again.

“No, Krystal,” I say but my throat is hoarse from yelling for her. It's more like a croak and I know she can't hear me, but I tell her anyway. “You're mine. I'm yours.”

Above the laughter the sound of rushing water roars, a wet breeze tickling my skin. “You're mine. I'm yours. Krystal, please.”

And as I'm talking huge waves engulf me, carrying my body through what feels like the inside of a washing machine. I turn and twist and thump and fall. But all I can think about is her, all I can hear is the sound of her voice. All I can remember is the feel of her skin.

Krystal. Krystal.

My legs are kicking wildly, my arms flailing about. My heart feels like it's about to beat right out of my chest and then I sit right up in my bed. Sweat rolls down my face as I clench the sheets in both fists.

It was a dream. Just a dream, I'm trying to convince myself and catch my breath at the same time. Then my cell phone rings.

Krystal

He's got to be up. I know he is. He was right there, I felt him as if he were standing right next to me. The dream had been so intense. I could feel his kisses, his caresses. I wanted more and more. We were going all the way and I wasn't afraid like I thought I'd be.

When Franklin had first suggested sex to me I'd been deathly afraid. Maybe because it was with Franklin and I knew he wasn't the right person. But Jake, he was different. Everything about him was different.

Jake had as much emotional baggage as I did, which to me made us a great match because neither one of us were perfect. The fact that we both shared supernatural powers only solidified the fact that we should be together.

Or so I thought.

Until Franklin appeared in the dream.

All he'd had to do was call my name and I was following him, like a horse to a handful of carrots. And I don't think I really wanted to follow him, but there was something pulling me in that direction, telling me what to say, something very strong.

But Jake was there. He was coming for me. He said I was his and he was mine.

Jake was mine.

“Hello?” I hear his voice and almost scream with joy.

“Jake?”

“Krystal?”

“Did you see him? You were there, did you see him?”

“Did I see who? Where?” He doesn't sound like he was sleeping at all and I know that's because he's awake. He was in that dream with me and now he's awake.

“You were there, weren't you? In the dream with Franklin and…and—”

I can't say the name even though I can see the no-face demon clearly.

“And Charon.”

With a sigh I fall back on my bed. “Yes.”

Sasha

Tonight I'm looking for my moon, desperately needing the connection with another world, another time and place. Since learning I can astral project a feeling of solace has come over me. I know that I'm a human teenager, living on Earth and doing what a normal teenager's supposed to do. Then again, there's a more magical part of me that belongs in another world where I'm not considered strange but a kindred spirit.

Twan and I seem to be growing closer, and by that I mean he's hinting toward us getting more physical. I haven't told anyone, but I'm leaning in that direction myself. Something about the way I feel when he kisses me and touches me. My body tingles all over and at times I'm afraid I'll astral project or disappear. It's like I'm losing control of myself around him, though not in a bad way.

Last night he said he loved me. I believe every word be
cause I love him, too. He knows who and what I am and he still loves me. I've never had that before and it feels good.

So sitting on the edge of my bed gazing out into the dark night sky I wish for my moon. And just like that the clouds seem to part and I see the giant orb clearly. I blink and then blink again because this doesn't look like my moon. It doesn't look altogether normal.

Standing, I move closer to the window and open it, leaning my face out until the chilly November breeze kisses my cheek. I study it a little closer.

It's not my normal moon because it's blue.

A blue moon on the first full moon of November. Flipping through my mental astronomy database I know that's not normal. Blue moons are the second full moon of each month. And this is early November. It's all wrong.

And yet…here it is.

A tiny sense of dread moves along my spine.

Lindsey

I've always heard voices, or thoughts I guess, from everyone else. Since I was younger I've heard their inner musings. After a while it became second nature and I figured out a way to handle it. Wear black and pray that at some point and time they did, too.

But that's not working now.

And I'm not just hearing their thoughts. I'm feeling their feelings and it's scaring the hell out of me.

I felt everything Jake was going through, the turmoil, the indecision, the pain.

And tonight, I felt more.

Panic and pain tore through my sleep so now I'm stand
ing at the back door looking at the weirdest moon I've ever seen. The cool breeze is whipping around my body, making me intensely aware of the thin nightgown I'm wearing.

Looking up to the sky I'm wondering what's going to happen next, or more likely, how much more I can bear. If the thoughts of others weren't bad enough, the feelings will be enough to kill me. And I think that's his purpose.

Shivering, I wrap myself in my arms but I don't move. I don't run back into the house and climb under my covers. I stand right there, staring at that ghoulish moon, waiting for whatever it's bringing to come.

Waiting for my part in this battle to begin.