Read The Acropolis Page 11


  Chapter 11

  Conor

  I think, when it comes right down to it, fear is underestimated.

  "Quiet, Em!" I say urgently, my hand coming to rest against her screaming lips.

  She is insensible, her eyes round with horror. I know without looking there is a Demon standing on the other side of my patio door. I don't look because I know it won't come in alone, not into a house full of gargoyles. There are footsteps in the hallway, more than one set, all on high alert.

  "What the hell!" a groggy Roach yells as he slides into the room. He is in a pair of red boxers and nothing else. Half naked, Roach is not the least bit intimidating. There's just not much to him. Somewhat tall, yes. Meaty, no. But Roach in gargoyle form, that's another story.

  I point at the French doors as my mother, Will, and Rachel all crowd into the room. We are a strange bunch at night, a mix of blue silk, Hello Kitty, and drawstring p.j.'s. Frightening, definitely not, but we aren't angry yet.

  It doesn't take long to assess the situation. Mom barely spares a glance in our direction.

  "Take the front of the house," Mom yells at Will. He doesn't wait for further orders.

  "Take the roof," I yell at Roach. His eyes narrow. He doesn't like following my orders, but when Mom nods, he complies.

  Mom looks at me, her eyes meeting mine. We don't speak in words, our eyes full of an understanding that takes a lifetime to cultivate. She exits the kitchen. She'll man what no else can cover. Only Rachel and I remain with Emma. Rachel will be with me until the end of the mission. What she tells her father will decide my future.

  "There'll be more," Rachel says.

  I'm well aware of this. Emma hasn't moved , and when I look her way, I see her face is ashen. Even so, her gaze is focused on the creature outside.

  "I think it's hurting," Rachel says in awe.

  I turn quickly, keeping Emma at my back as my gaze finds the Demon. He's a large creature with four arms, four horns, wide lips and pointed teeth. His dark, leather-like face is contorted. Rachel is right. He's hurting. I look over my shoulder at Emma. Her eyes are red. She is smiling.

  "She's hurting him," Rachel breathes as she walks to my side.

  Both of us stare at Emma. She isn't moving, frozen. Rachel pokes her. No response.

  "Shit," I curse.

  I pick Emma up, cradling her in my arms. She comes to life, fighting me, her body suddenly active as she twists in an attempt to see out the door.

  "Jesus, Con! She can control Demons," Rachel cries out.

  I press Emma to me.

  "Some Demons," I correct as I run for the stairs.

  At the landing, I shout. Mom is already there. Rachel is behind me. Roach appears at the top of the stairs, Will is moving my way from the front of the house. Emma is thrashing violently. The moon has her.

  "We've got to get her to the Acropolis! NOW!" I yell.

  "Now? Like this?" Rachel scoffs.

  Mom takes one look at Emma and nods. I don't have the experience Mom and Roach have, but I know Emma isn't safe here. I have heard of this, but I have never seen it. Emma is channeling her mother.

  "Go!" Mom orders.

  I take the stairs two at a time. Will and Rachel pound the stairs behind me. Roach has reverted to his gargoyle form. He hisses as we join him. The trip will take all of us. We'll be attacked. There's no doubt. Only my mother will remain.

  "Conor!" Mom calls. I look down the stairs, a thrashing Emma beating me incessantly in the chest. Mom's eyes meet mine. "Be careful. Kill her if you have to." Her words cut through me. She's afraid.

  I nod, giving her my back as the four of us begin to run. There is a lever built into a room at the end of the hall. It opens a large skylight in the ceiling. We run for it, Will punching it before we all launch ourselves into the sky. There are three Demons waiting for us.

  I see Roach extend his talons, sinking them into a dragon-like Demon above my head. It howls. They are evenly matched. Rachel takes a smaller bull-like Demon with black, curling horns and two hairy arms. It has hooves for feet. Will stays behind me. The third Demon has retreated. It is outnumbered, and it knows it. I wrap myself around Emma. She feels hot against my chest.

  "Dammit, Em! Snap out of it!"

  She doesn't respond, and I grab her by the chin, forcing her face to mine. I don't know her, but I can't kill her. I know this. I'd stood behind her while she talked to her mother, had seen the bloody tears on her cheeks in the hospital, had watched her shoot a ball of flame, had seen her fight the power of the moon. She can fight this.

  Her eyes meet mine. They are blood red. She is a Demon. She is the daughter of Enepsigos. She is Emma.

  She snarls, scratching me, and I watch as her nails leave a red welt across my chest. I am going to have a hard time fighting anything with her fighting me as well. I need to get to the ocean. Quickly. Water is a sanctuary for gargoyles.

  Kill her if you have to

  My arms tighten around Emma. She is howling. I know what she is. I hate what she is. I have been trained to kill Demons. I still hate them, hate them for what they take from mankind, what they have taken from me. They killed my father, took Dayton.

  I look down at Emma. She is going wild. But beneath the thrashing, the screaming, I see it. Bloody tears. She is a Demon, but she is also human. She has not asked for this.

  I head for the Gulf. We need water.

  "Sssssssssssssss . . . if they send the hounds, we are done for," Roach hisses, his serpentine body twisting through the air, his clawed feet covered in black blood.

  He smiles wickedly and sucks on one of his talons. There is more than one reason Roosevelt is called Roach. I look at him, my eyes full of disgust. Roach isn't an awful guy, but he is intolerant.

  "Fly for the ocean," I tell them. Will and Rachel are flanking me now. Roach moves ahead, his neck arched backwards.

  "You want to drown her?" Roach asks, his snake-like voice rumbling with laughter. One day, I will beat the shit out of him.

  "We use it. We dive. We come up for air. We dive."

  Will looks at Emma. Her hair is sticking to her forehead. She is sweating from the fight, and there is no sign she will tire soon.

  "She could drown," Will says softly.

  There is no malice in his tone, nothing to suggest he wants her dead although I realize it would be a relief to them. She is a danger to us. She could get us killed, and no one wants to die for a Demon.

  "Yes, she could," I say quietly.

  If she does, it won't be intentional. I have no idea how she will react to salt water. I have no idea how long she can hold her breathe. Although Demons can't be drowned, they have an aversion to water. It doesn't hurt them, but Demon-hybrids haven't been so lucky. For some, water is deadly.

  We fly faster, the Gulf welcoming us on the horizon just as a black cloud rolls in from the same direction. It is a mass of Demons, possibly Hellhounds.

  "Dive!" I yell.

  Emma is moaning, her head rolled back as she stares up at the sky. The moon suddenly breaks through the cloud cover and Emma goes slack, her eyes locked on the huge white orb. In that moment, she isn't awkward, she isn't unremarkable, she is breathtaking.

  "Emma," I whisper.

  She doesn't look at me. I close my eyes briefly as the wind buffets us. The water is coming up fast.

  "Hold your breath, Sweetheart."

  I can only hope she hears me. Roach sinks into the waves. Rachel skips on the surface of the water before diving into the Gulf's comforting arms.

  Will looks at me, his eyes sad. I wonder if he and I are the only ones who care what happens to Emma. I think about her mother, the skinny auburn-haired woman who'd been ringing her hands in the hall outside Emma's cubicle in Atlanta.

  Will sinks into the waves. Emma's voice rings through my head, her phone conversation with her adopted mother still fresh in my mind. I love you, Mom. No matter what, I love you. Emma doesn't have a lot of peop
le in her life, but she has that much.

  "Hold your breath, Sweetheart."

  We plunge into the icy waters just as the sky above fills with Demons.