Thrall (6 page)

“If you’re not my father,” I said, my voice shaking, “Who are you?” My head started to throb dully.

“Your father and I were soldiers together,” he said. “Friends.” Dad pulled a photograph out of his wallet and handed it to me.

The photo depicted two men, sitting on a muddy jeep. I recognized my dad... Murphy. He must have been in his early twenties at the time. He had the same barrel chest as he did today, the same warm brown eyes and close-cropped hair. He wore a cocky smile as he lounged against the jeep with easy confidence. The other man stared straight out of the photo at me, composed and thoughtful. He was equally fit, but smaller, trimmer. His hair was a lighter brown, and his eyes were blue. I’d never seen this man before, but there was something familiar about him. The line of his nose. The arch of his eyebrows. I saw these features everyday - every time I looked into a mirror. “That’s him,” I said. “That’s my father, isn’t it?”

“Paul Kells,” Dad said, nodding. “He was one of the best men I’ve ever known. Smart. Brave. And his sense of humor...” He smiled in memory, but the smile didn’t last. “You have a lot of him in you. So many times I’ve wanted to tell you about him.”

“Why didn’t you?” I asked.

Dad started to say something, but stopped himself. Before he could gather his thoughts, his phone rang. He checked the caller ID, frowned, and turned the phone off.

“Why didn’t you tell me about my real father?” I pressed.

“It’s complicated,” he said.

I looked back at the picture, studying the stranger who shared so many of my features. I swallowed a surge of emotion and looked up. “So I’m adopted,” I said quietly. “That’s why you wanted to have the big talk?”

“No,” Dad said, his eyes crinkling anxiously. “I mean, yes, you’re adopted. But no, that’s... that’s not what we need to talk about.”

I stared at him, processing this. “You’re telling me you’re not my dad, but that’s not the big news?” Dad shook his head no. I felt a strange tingling in my head, like the onset of a fever. When I spoke, the words came out in a whisper. “What do we need to talk about?”

“Paul, your father, he died just before you were born.” But here Dad stopped and lifted a hand to rub his temples. He was struggling with something, something he didn’t want to tell me.

“What happened to him?” I asked faintly.

“He was killed.”

I felt my mouth go dry. “Killed... by who?” I asked.

“It’s... He was killed by a Lilitu, Braedyn.” Dad watched me closely, gauging my reaction. But I barely had one; that word meant nothing to me at all.

“What’s a Lilitu?” I asked.

Dad ran a hand through his hair, changing tack. “What you need to understand-- we’re in a war that most people can’t even see. The battles are hidden, the enemy wears a near-perfect disguise. They look human. That’s what makes them so dangerous.”

“What’s a Lilitu,” I asked again.

Dad took a deep breath and let it out. “A demon.”

I thought I’d misheard him. “Sorry, what?” I asked. Dad just watched me, worried. “Did you say...?”

“Yes. Lilitu are demons.”

“Demons. Just... walking around.” My voice sounded strange in my ears. Too far away. Somewhere in the back of my mind I wondered if this was what it felt like to be in shock - like a big fuzzy blanket was wrapped around an alarm inside my head, and even though the alarm was blaring its heart out, I could barely hear it. I could barely think.

“No. Not just walking around. They’re on a mission, Braedyn. If we don’t stop them, they’ll make the earth their home. Trust me, that’s not going to work out so well for humankind.”

I forced a sick smile. “You’re joking, right?”

Dad shook his head wearily. “No. No, Honey.” He reached for my hand, but I jerked it out of his reach. I was starting to get angry.

“So my father is some stranger I’ve never heard of before, and now you’re telling me you think a demon killed him?” My voice was growing shrill.

“I know,” Dad said. “I know you must think I’m nuts. This sounds insane. But it’s real, Braedyn. I’m dead serious. Lilitu... they can look human when they need to. They can be quite beautiful, actually. And they use that beauty to seduce people. They... they need to forge a connection with their victim in order to feed. Physical intimacy... it gives them access to a person’s essence. Their soul.” He looked me straight in the eye. “Do you understand what I’m telling you, Braedyn?”

I shook my head.

“A Lilitu’s embrace can be fatal. Paul... Your father...” He struggled for the words. “By the time I figured out what was happening to him, it was already too late to stop it. The thing is, Braedyn...”

The front door opened without ceremony, and the man I’d seen that morning on Lucas’ porch walked in.

Dad stood, startled. “Hale.”

Hale was in his early thirties. His face was free of wrinkles, except where they pooled at the corners of his eyes. He exuded intense, unconscious authority. He was wearing a dark t-shirt, which stretched over a broad chest and strong arms. A thin scar divided one eyebrow and kicked down onto his cheek below. The scar drew attention to his crisp gray eyes, alive with intelligence. He moved with the same kind of focus as Dad. I knew that look instantly. Another soldier.

“You turned your phone off. Let’s go, Murphy. Gretchen’s waiting for us.”

“I need a minute with Braedyn,” Dad said.

“We can’t spare it. Gretchen’s tracking one right now. She thinks it attacked a high school kid.”

Dad’s jaw tightened with concern. “She’s sure about that?”

Hale gave Dad a wry smile. “You want to question her, be my guest.”

Dad looked at me, torn. “I know this is terrible timing,” he said. “I promise we’ll finish this when I get home. But I have to take care of something first.”

“You’re leaving me?” A rising panic made my voice sound shrill.

“I want to help,” Lucas said, stepping into the foyer.

Hale nodded. “Good. You can stay with Braedyn. Fill her in.”

“But I’m ready to fight,” Lucas said.

“I know,” Hale said. He clapped Lucas on the shoulder as he headed for the door. “You’ll get your chance, Lucas. Just not today.” Hale walked out of the house.

Lucas frowned. “That’s what you keep saying,” he muttered to himself.

“Lucas,” Dad said quietly. “Keep her out of trouble.” He followed Hale out the door. I watched him leave, shell-shocked. Lucas eyed me. The silence stretched for a long moment.

“I really thought you knew,” he said. When I didn’t respond, Lucas sighed. “I know it’s hard to accept. When I found out...”

I spun on Lucas, interrupting. “Do I look stupid? I don’t believe in demons. Just, please, go home. I want to be alone.” I walked toward the stairs, but as I passed him Lucas caught my hand and held it firmly. I tried to pull free but Lucas wouldn’t let me go.

“Why do you think your dad and Hale just ran out of here?” Lucas asked. “They’re not chasing an ice-cream truck, Braedyn. They’re demon hunters. It’s what they do.”

“How do you know?” I spat back. “Aren’t you the one they leave behind?” Lucas released me, stung, but I was angry. I’d meant it to hurt.

“The Lilitu are real,” he said. His eyes held mine, unwavering. “Whether or not you believe in them.”

“Prove it,” I said, my voice like ice.

“All right,” Lucas said, grim determination settling into his eyes. “I will.”

Twenty minutes later Lucas and I were walking through the heart of Old Town. The mayor had made a big push to redevelop the former town center of Puerto Escondido about a decade ago. The Plaza had been paved in terracotta cobblestones, and local artists had been commissioned to paint a variety of lush murals around the area. The land to the west of the square had been transformed into a park to preserve a few ancient Catalpa trees planted there by the old missionaries. Royal, Cassie, and I had spent many weekends in Old Town eating green chile chicken enchiladas from Madrigal’s and roaming the shelves at the old bookshop. It was one of a handful of stores that had thrived here even before the redevelopers rolled through the neighborhood.

Walking down the cobblestone street with Lucas, I didn’t even see the displays in the windows of my favorite shops. My head was full to bursting, and I was startled when Lucas suddenly pulled me against the side of a building behind an ornamental tree. He pointed to a woman lounging against a brightly painted wall across the Plaza.

I eyed her, uncertain. In slim dark jeans, an edgy t-shirt, and steel-tipped boots, she could have been a drummer for an indie rock band or a bartender at a biker club. Her short, spiky hair looked effortlessly cool, and her expression was calm and collected.

“Gretchen can track them,” Lucas said. And as we watched, Gretchen straightened, shoving her hands into her pockets. Lucas leaned forward, intent. “There.” He pointed at a woman gliding out of a boutique dress shop. She moved like she was made of liquid grace. Like she wasn’t constrained by the same laws of gravity as the rest of us. She paused by a table full of businessmen when she noticed them staring. Lucas sat back on his heels, grim. “There’s your proof. A soul-sucker in the flesh.”

“A pretty blonde flirting with a bunch of suits?” I asked. “How is that proof?”

Lucas lowered his voice. “Not flirting. It’s called enthralling. It’s like a spell that makes it harder to resist their advances. Not that most guys try.”

“Oh. A spell,” I said. “Well, when you put it that way...” Lucas heard the sarcasm in my voice.

“You’re not taking this seriously.”

“You think?”

“I get that she looks harmless,” he started.

“You mean the terrifying blonde who’s maybe 115 pounds soaking wet?”

“She’s a killer,” Lucas said flatly.

The beautiful woman turned toward us in the sunlight. As soon as I saw her face, I recognized her. It was the same woman who’d approached Derek at Homecoming. The one who’d pulled him away right before he and Amber were supposed to be crowned. She brushed her honey-blond hair back over one shoulder. The air seemed to shimmer around her. I suddenly noticed that almost every guy in the Plaza was watching her. She basked in the attention, smiling. One of the businessmen started to stand up before he caught himself and returned to his seat. I shook my head, unable to match what Lucas was saying with what I was seeing.

“She’s a killer,” he said again.

I waited for more, for some kind of explanation that made sense. He didn’t offer one. “Just take your word for it?” I asked, frustrated.

Lucas didn’t bat an eye. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because.” Fed up, I started to walk away. Lucas grabbed my hand. The anguish in his voice was real. “Because one of them murdered my brother.” Raw emotion ran unchecked over his face. I suddenly knew: this was the source of the pain I’d sensed in him earlier.

Empathy warred with logic in my head. There was no doubt that Lucas believed what he was saying. But I couldn’t. There had to be some other explanation. “How do you know?” I asked softly.

A cloud seemed to pass behind his eyes and Lucas shuddered. When he answered me, his voice was so quiet I almost couldn’t hear the words. “I was there.” The fight seemed to go out of him. He sagged against the wall behind us, reliving some nightmare in his mind. When he reached up to wipe away the moisture gathering in his eyes, I looked away.

The blonde turned in the plaza, smiling a greeting as someone exited the shop behind her. I recognized his swagger, but it took a moment for me to believe it was really him.

“Derek?” I didn’t intend for my voice to come out as shrilly as it did. The blonde turned toward us, her eyes sharp. Lucas whipped me back around the corner and out of sight.

“I didn’t think you two were friends,” he said.

“We’re not. It’s just...” I swallowed hard and changed the subject. “You don’t think she would hurt him?”

Lucas didn’t answer me. As one, we edged closer to peek around the corner. The blonde was scanning the Plaza. Her eyes swept over Gretchen. Stopped. Gretchen straightened, alarmed. I saw movement behind the blonde. Dad and Hale slipped into the Plaza, flanking her. She saw them and ran-- directly toward us.

Lucas shouldered in front of me protectively. But the blonde darted into alley on the other side of the building we were crouched against. We watched as Hale signaled to Dad and Gretchen. They split up and darted out of sight. Lucas waited a moment longer, then pulled me forward.

“Come on,” he said. He led me down the alley the blonde had just disappeared into.

“What are you doing?” I hissed. The alley opened into an enclosed courtyard lined with the backdoors to half a dozen different shops. Lucas and I crouched behind a set of old stone steps leading up to the closest shop. From this hiding place, we had a clear view of the courtyard.

The blonde had stopped in the center of the space, unsure which door to try. She made a decision and moved toward a dark blue door. As her hand connected with the doorknob, it opened from inside. Dad was there, blocking her escape. Something metallic gleamed in his hand. The blonde stumbled back in alarm.

An inky shadow boiled up from the ground at the blonde’s feet, despite the full sun beaming into the courtyard. It spiraled up her body, wrapping her in a cloak of darkness-- and she disappeared.

“No,” Lucas breathed. “Where’s Gretchen?!”

“What... what was that?” I stammered. “She disappeared...? How did she disappear?”

“Shh!” Lucas’ eyes were fixed on my dad, creased in worry. In the courtyard, Dad tensed, as though preparing for a fight. He gripped a wicked looking knife in one hand and sliced it through the air in front of him.

Gretchen burst through another door, breathless.

“Gretchen?!” Dad growled. “Where is she?!”

Gretchen scanned the courtyard and shook her head, frustrated. “Too late. She’s gone. I don’t get it. It’s like something tipped her off.”

Lucas hunched lower. “We should go back,” he whispered.

“Get up,” a man growled behind us. We turned. Hale towered over us, his gray eyes crackling with anger. Lucas and I jerked, startled.

“Hale,” Lucas said. “I was just--”