I was stupefied. Everyone around me was on slow motion, but I was on real time. I had absolutely no idea how I managed to tap into the power, but it was definitely one of the better powers I had, especially during a meeting with the demi-demons.
I was deep in concentration, fighting off the attacks of the demi-demon in front of me. He was relentless, coming in with jabs and punches one after another. All in the same slow motion as the others. I deflected his hits easily.
The sound of the others fighting was deafening. The groans of pain as flesh hit flesh, the smack of fists as they made contact, the howling of frustration when a blow didn’t connect.
Between the sounds, the demi-demon I was fighting, and my fascination with my newly discovered power, I didn’t sense the person behind me until it was too late. They wrapped their arms around me in a bear hug, pinning my arms to my body. I stomped on his ankle, and his grip released long enough for me to wriggle free, only to be hit hard across the jaw, sending me backward into the second demi-demon’s grasp. My concentration on my power slipped and time jumped back to normal speed, jolting me like I’d been in a speeding car and someone slammed on the brakes.
The demi-demon lifted me off the ground and carried me to the center of the yard. The earth started shaking, a mound grew until the dirt gave way, and the pit opened up.
Oh, shit. Again? Really?
But instead of throwing me down into the abyss, which they could have easily done, they held me beside the hole, pressing down on my shoulders and forcing me to my knees.
I felt nauseous. I knew what was at the bottom of that pit. And I knew my time was running short. I wasn’t a cat. I didn’t have nine lives, and I was kind of fond of the one I had. I tried to work up enough spit to swallow and ease the burning in the back of my throat, and I screamed for someone to help me, but they were all involved in their own fights. I saw Chay glancing at me before he took a hard blow to the side of his head.
I knew no one was going to come to my rescue. I was on my own. I took a deep breath and remembered what one of my many self-defense teachers once told me.
“Being scared is a powerful emotion. It is only crippling if you let it be. Channel it. Rewire your brain to read being scared as being pissed the hell off. It’s okay to be scared, Milayna. It’s normal. It doesn’t make you weak. You can use it to make yourself stronger,” he said, and then he worked me over on the mats, teaching me move after move until they came naturally to me. And he taught me something else—there was no such thing as fighting dirty when your life was at stake. Use what you could, do what you could to survive.
I closed my eyes for a minute and pictured myself in that gym with my teacher, hearing him tell me to do whatever it took to survive, and the butterflies in my stomach and the hollowness in my chest abated just a little.
The first thing I saw was the glowing, yellowish-orange light coming from the bottom of the hole. Then I saw them. Gray arms dusted in a fine sheen of ash. They reached out and planted themselves on the ground, hefting the demon halfway out of the hole. He had two horns, curled like ram’s horns. They looked like wood that had its bark scraped off.
Its black fingernails dug into the ground as it pulled itself up and halfway out of the hole. It pinned me with its black-eyed stare.
“You can’t trust humans to do a demon’s job, even if they are half demon,” it hissed through needle-like teeth that gleamed white.
It pulled itself further out of the hole, and I knew if I was going to survive the night, I’d better do something. Fast.
Do whatever it takes to survive. There’s no such thing as fighting dirty when your life is at stake.
I turned my head and bit the arm of the demi-demon holding my arms against my body. I clamped down and didn’t let go until I tasted his sickening thick, warm blood. He screamed in pain and let go of my arms.
I landed a palm-heel strike in the middle of the demon’s face. Its head bounced backward, its black eyes registering surprise. Swinging my legs around, I scrambled up from the ground. I gave the demon a roundhouse kick to the side of the head. It grabbed my ankle, and I fell on my side with a cry.
“Tsk, tsk. We know all about your little fighting games. We’re prepared.” The demon shook his head at me like he was disappointed. “I thought you’d be more of a challenge.”
I pulled back my free leg and jammed my foot into the demon’s arm. It bent downward at an odd angle, and he lost his grip on me. I scrambled out of his reach. I feigned a right, but jabbed a left. The demon pulled himself out of the hole further to hit me behind the knees and I went down again, but not before I gave him an okay kick to the head. He slid down the hole until just his head and shoulders were above ground, his arms still reaching out. I rolled to my back and gave him a quick kick to the forehead. His head snapped back. He lost his grip and slid down the side of the pit with a shriek of profanities.
Thank God I didn’t take piano lessons.
Turning, I helped my dad with the demi-demon cornering him between the house and the porch. I jabbed him in the side, grabbed the back of his hair, and yanked his head back. Raising my knee between his legs, I nudged him.
“Apologize to my dad.”
He didn’t acknowledge me. I rammed my bent leg upward. He shrieked in pain. I let go and he fell to the ground, curled around himself.
“You should respect your elders,” I said and walked away, looking for a place I could help.
Someone touched me lightly on the arm. I turned quickly, ready to defend myself. Chay grabbed my wrist as my fist flew toward him.
“Milayna, it’s over,” he said quietly and kissed my fist.
I looked around. The demi-demons and Evils were running in all directions. The dirt was shifting and filling the pit. The only evidence that anything had happened was a mound where the pit had been.
I could hear the wail of a siren in the distance
***
We sat around the kitchen table. My mom and Mrs. Roberts made the six of us a snack. They hovered like two mother hens, making sure we ate, that our cuts were cleaned and our bruises iced. It must’ve been hard on them watching us fight and not being able to help. Demi-angels had superior strength to humans, even if a human was schooled in martial arts and self-defense like my mother and Mrs. Roberts. There was really nothing they could do but watch from the sidelines. As strong, independent women, it was a position they both hated but had learned to live with, if not accept.
“Milayna, what are you doing? Do you have a headache?” my mom asked when she walked by.
I dropped my hands from where they pressed on my temples. “Um, no… I was just trying to make that spoon move.” Everyone in the room looked at me like I’d lost my mind—I probably had. Chay pursed his lips to hide a grin. “Dad said we can sometimes sense what other people are thinking. Not read minds, but feel what they are thinking or feeling. Well, that’s happened to me twice now.” That got everyone’s attention.
“What are you talking about?” Drew scooted his chair closer to me.
“I was fighting this demi-demon idiot tonight, and everything was normal. He hit me, I hit him, blah frickin’ blah. Then it was like someone slowed time down. I could see his movements in slow motion, giving me time to prepare myself for the block. It was wicked cool, like I could sense what he was thinking before he threw his punches or kicks.”
I took a drink of my Coke and sat up straighter. “And the night we found out Steven changed? Well, I felt what everyone in the room was feeling. All I had to do was look them in the eyes and it was like we connected somehow. It felt like static cling sparking between us.” I moved my fingers to imitate little sparks in the air, moving my hand between Chay and me.
“Somehow, the person’s feelings were communicated to me through that connection. Like, when I looked at Chay, I could feel the electrical current connect to him, and I felt a sense of calm, strength, a sense of bonding to the team, and I felt… I felt… well, that’s all. Whe
n I looked at Steven, he only held eye contact a second or two and the emotion I felt the strongest was uneasiness. There was no tie to the group. Otherwise, I felt nothing.” I let my hands fall. “That’s when I was fairly certain he’d already changed. And it turned out I was right—well, the electrical current was right. Whatever. Anyway, I thought since that power was showing up, maybe I could get a handle on this telekinesis thing we’re supposed to have. I can’t seem to get it to work when I want it to, but it shows up anytime Chay and I… well, whatever.” I shrugged a shoulder, wishing I could suck those last words back in.
“Anytime Chay and you what?” My dad lifted an eyebrow.
I gave him a quick smile, the tips of my cheekbones burning. Chay wouldn’t make eye contact.
“Yeah, good luck. I’ve been trying forever and nothing,” Drew grumbled. He spun his plate around on the table and scowled.
“Well, we need to work on developing our powers. I know I have them, but I don’t know how I made them work. I mean, I tried to get the emotional electrical current thing. Sometimes it’s there and other times, nada. And we all have telekinesis that we need to learn how to work. Because this can’t go on.” I pushed my plate away. “The fights are making us weaker. There’s no way we can keep fighting and be able to fight off Azazel and his demons too.”
The group murmured their agreement.
“Dad, there has to be a way of killing them.” I looked at my father, who had one hip leaned against the countertop and his arm around my mother’s waist.
“Milayna, we can’t kill the demi-demons. They’re half human!” he said in horror. His eyes wide.
“Not them, Dad. Geez. I meant the demons. How do we kill them? How do we protect ourselves from their strength?”
“We fight like you did tonight. You use what you learned in your training. It’s no different. That’s why your mother and I have tried to train you in personal defense and fighting skills almost since you were able to walk. And you rely on your teammates.”
Except the thing I’m defending myself against is a demon with flaming hot skin who’d like nothing better than to throw me into the pit of Hell, and one of my team wants to help it do that.
“Well, there is one other thing,” Chay’s dad said from the corner of the room. He looked down at his hand and rubbed it with the fingers of the other.
“We’d never get one. I don’t know anyone, angel or demi-angel, who’s seen one.” My dad shook his head.
“What?” I asked, hope stirring for the first time. I leaned toward Chay’s dad. “Whatever it is, we need to try!” I said, talking so fast in my excitement that I wasn’t sure anyone could understand me.
“There’s a legend among angels that demons can be killed using a dagger,” my dad said quietly.
“Good! Let’s get one.” I started to stand. “Chay? You want to drive?”
“Wait.” My dad held up a hand. “There’s more to it than just going to the local Gander Mountain and buying a knife, Milayna. If it were that easy, we would have done it years ago.” My dad let out a breath of frustration and pushed off the counter. “No, these daggers are special. Legend says they are made from the very coals of Hell. One prick from its blade and a demon dies. We don’t know who makes them, how, what they look like, nothing. In fact, we don’t know if the legend is even true.”
“So how do we get one?” Drew asked.
Chay’s dad shrugged. “Don’t know. I’ve never seen one. The Demons are too afraid to use them. The Demons higher in the hierarchy use them to keep the lower, servant demons and hobgoblins in line. I guess they have an immunity to them that makes them unafraid to use them. It’s also said that demons give daggers to demi-demons. But as ferocious as they are, I’ve never seen a demi-demon use any kind of weapon to kill a demi-angel or a human.”
“We need one of those daggers.” Chay rolled his shoulders. “What about Azazel? Does he carry one?”
Chay’s dad shook his head. “I don’t know, son. I’ve never seen Azazel, only his demons.”
“Me either.” This from my dad.
“I have,” I whispered. The air in the room stilled, and everyone looked at me. “Not in the flesh, but in a dream. In a vision.”
“What’d you see?” My dad’s voice was hard.
“He looks like a man, but his skin is red, like he has a wicked bad sunburn. He has shoulder-length black hair slicked back on his head. It looks like he uses too much hair gel. In my vision, he wore a black robe. Tucked into the sash was a gold-jeweled handle. I didn’t think about what it was until now, but I’m sure it’s a knife of some sort.”
“The only way to get our hands on that dagger is to take it from Azazel… who none of us have seen in the flesh.” Chay flopped back in his chair, letting out a frustrated sigh.
“Or find someone he’s given it to.” I rolled my pop can between my hands.
“I don’t think that’ll get you the dagger. The legend says that a demi-demon who possesses it absorbs its strength, but also its evil. The person would be stronger than any of us and fueled by evil. Not someone you want to mess around with.” My dad pulled Mom closer to him.
Chay’s dad nodded, drumming his fingers against his thigh and tightening his other arm around Mrs. Roberts.
“And if a demi-angel gets the dagger? Does it still emanate evil?” I braced my forearms on the table and leaned forward.
Mr. Roberts made a sound in his throat and shook his head. He swallowed his mouthful of Coke and said, “The legend is that it gives evil to evil and enhanced power to destroy evil to anyone good who possesses it.”
“We need that dagger, even if we do have to fight a much stronger demi-demon to get it.” Chay threaded our fingers together. “We’ll just have to keep Evils out of the picture while we do it, so we can focus all our energy on the demi-demons. So one prick and a Demon is toast. What happens if we get cut by the dagger?”
Mr. Roberts looked at Chay, and his face softened. The love and worry for his son was clear. “I don’t know, son.” He shook his head and looked at the floor. “We just don’t know enough about it.”
Evils. Hmm. Could they… what if? Jake.
“The Evils. Is there anything that says the dagger has to be used by a demi-demon? Could an Evil have it?” I looked between my dad and Mr. Roberts.
Mr. Roberts looked at my dad and lifted a shoulder. My dad looked at me and mimicked his shrug. “We don’t know enough about it to even guess. Why?”
“There’s one person I know who’s turned so evil that he’s not even himself any longer. He’s cruel, sadistic, and I can see him and Azazel laughing over cigars and coffee,” I said.
“Who?” everyone in the room asked, their words overlapping and echoing each other’s. All except Chay. He knew the answer. A frown pulled at his lips, and he nodded.
“Jake,” I whispered. “And I’ve seen a leather sheath on his belt. The kind that would hold a knife.”
***
I stood on the back deck with Chay after everyone had gone home. He cupped one side of my face in his palm, gently rubbing his thumb across my skin.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured.
“Yeah, right,” I said with a laugh. “I look like I lost a boxing match after ten rounds.”
Chay leaned down and kissed my jaw lightly, just a whisper of a caress over the skin that was already swelling and turning a dusky red.
“I could kill them for what they’ve done to you,” he ground out between clenched teeth.
“What they’ve done to everyone,” I said, wrapping my arms around his neck. “But you wouldn’t—couldn’t—kill anyone. You’re better than that. You have too much goodness in you. Right here.” I put my hand over his heart.
Sliding my hand around the back of his neck, I nudged him to me. His eyes darkened and the blue-green depths swirled. He skimmed his lips over mine before pulling back. His mouth hovered over mine, just a sigh separating us. I could feel his breaths mixing with mine
, and I said his name on a sigh. He sucked my lower lip into his mouth. Letting my lip slip from his mouth, he kissed along my jaw to my ear.
“You were made to fit in my arms.” He kissed the hollow behind my ear, and my fingers fisted in his hair.
I pulled his mouth back to mine and his tongue delved between my lips, exploring every part of my mouth. Running along the length of my tongue, across my teeth, over the roof of my mouth—he touched everywhere. I leaned into him, wanting more. Always wanting more. His feel. His strength. His taste. Him.
The light clicked on, and Chay stepped back. I grinned. “I guess the fun’s over.”
“Yeah, but it was damn good while it lasted.”
I gave him a quick kiss. “‘Bye. Text me.”
“I will,” he promised. “I’ll talk with you tomorrow, Milayna. I have a feeling we’re gonna get a free pass from school.”
Judging by the bruises covering his face, and the way mine throbbed, I figured he was right.
***
The next morning, my face was a beautiful kaleidoscope of color. Makeup was once again a failure, so I got to stay home from school.
Unfortunately, Chay had to go to school, so there was no one to make fun of soap operas with. Uncle Rory was my babysitter for the day, and he didn’t see the appeal. So we watched the sports channel. It was torture. I’d rather have been at school.
Five days until my birthday.
Thursday, my mother booted me off to school even though I looked like I was on the wrong end of a catfight.
“I can’t go to school looking like this, Mom! Give me one more day.” Although another day with Uncle Rory and the sports channel and I was likely to pull my hair out strand by strand. Watching the sports channel all day was like Chinese water torture. It actually made me want to study chemistry.
“No, you can’t miss any more school. If anyone asks, tell them you fell down the stairs.”
I stomped up the stairs to my room, tripping on the top step, and landing on my hands and knees on the hallway floor.