Dream Demons

Demons and the Dark

            Hyperventilating, she was frozen in place, she didn't dare leave her hiding spot, even if it meant having it out with this stranger. He wasn't a threat. Strangely enough his presence was soothing. This is wrong on so many levels.

            When the creatures disappeared down the street she felt his warm breath against her ear. "This is very nice but I have to make a call."

            Stiffening, she sprang from his embrace. She recognized that arrogant voice! She ignored the pleasant shiver going down her spine at the sound. 

            "What were you doing? Following me?"

            "Looked like I was saving your life. Do you know what demons do to little girls?"

            "Are you for real? Just looked like a couple of thugs, if you ask me." She tried rationalizing what she saw. Nothing could explain what those freaks were. But demons?

            "Did you not see them climb the walls across the street or come out of a dimensional rift in the sidewalk?"

            Shrugging, she started walking down the sidewalk again. Her energy drained. 

            Whatever.

             Sighing, Dar watched her walk away. She was definitely an enigma.

            "Wait a minute. Hold on now. Can't you spare a guy some gratitude?" She was lost in her own little world. What did she see in there? 

            "Hmmm? Sorry? Oh, thanks." She didn't stop, didn't look at him. Some moments she was there, coherent and feisty but then like a switch she broke off. Alone somewhere in her own mind. He couldn't decide whether she was mental or if something more sinister was going on. 

            "Are you okay? You seem a bit out of it." Grabbing her arm he forced her to look at him. "Hold on a sec. I need to get a crew out here looking for those demons."

            "I really should be getting home. It's late." She stared at his hand like it was foreign object. As if she doesn't understand its purpose. 

            "Let me walk with you." Maybe he should let her take her chances. Maybe he's wrong about her. Maybe its a mental health thing and she needs a hospital. But looking at her there was such sadness and loss he was powerless to walk away. There was a pull beneath her mental fog. Something supernatural, he was sure of it. 

            "I know the way."

            "I'm sure you do. But you shouldn't be walking around here by yourself."

            "I'm fine. I do this all the time."

            "Do you have a death wish or something?" her sunken ice blue eyes were evidence she hadn't had a good night's sleep in a long time. He was afraid of breaking her thin arms when he grasped them. She probably wasn't eating much either. 

            Shrugging her slender shoulders, he pulled out his cell.

            "Hey, Car. We've got a little situation. A pack of demons just busted through the fabric. Last seen on 18th between Washington and Lincoln." 

            "Alright, man. See you there?"

            "Nah, you guys can handle it. I have something else to do."

            "Look, don't worry about me, whatever your name is. Obviously you have somewhere you need to be and I don't need a babysitter."

                "I'm sure you don't but you do need the company. My name's Darconte La Couirre. You can call me Dar." He released her arm and offered his hand. "What can I call you? I don't really think your name is 'ice maiden'?"

            Snapping her head up she glared at him with a spark of fire in her eyes.

            "Who called me that?"

            "The girls at the bar."

            "I never liked them anyway. Snotty little bitches."

            "I didn't feel any love lost. But it was obvious they were jealous."

            "Of what?"

            "You, of course." Laughing, she had no clue how adorable she was.

            "Whatever. My name's Marita Henrick." She shook his hand. As soon as their hands touched there was a jolt of power that rocked her to the tips of her toes. Snatching her hand back she rubbed it on her jeans. 

            She continued walking, careful not to touch Dar again. There was something off about him. Not off like her, but something different. She couldn't put her finger on it but there was a raw energy around him. Something tangible in the air around him. Maybe it came from the amazing s****l energy he exuded. But there was something dangerous there too. Maybe just another sign she was losing touch with reality.

            Ever since her family was killed, she couldn't trust her own senses. She watched their murder and couldn't do anything to stop it. She couldn't even see who did it. She must have blocked it out. When the police arrived, she was incoherent in the corner of the room with her hands over her ears.

            Blood everywhere. They couldn't find anything to pin on her and the shock was so bad she was hospitalized for two years. They said it was a temporary break from reality. She was catatonic for a month. Then when she finally started talking all she talked about was the invisible monster that tore apart her family.     

            Finally, when it was clear they would allow her to join her family she pretended that she was cured. She convinced them that she didn't really see anything. That she wasn't there, it was survivors guilt. She still didn't know who or what did it but eventually the doctors and police were convinced. And she was released to her own devices.

            "Are you okay?" You're crying."

            "Hmm? Oh, I..I'm sorry." She hastily wiped away the tears.

            Darconte pulled her to a stop in front of an all night diner. "You look like you could use something to eat."

            She let him pull her inside. Hoping he could get her talking. Her sadness rolled off her in waves. Marta was small and frail looking and it brought out the Guardian in him. He hadn't felt that way about any one person in a century. He'd been performing his duty to humanity without feeling a connection to them. But something about this tiny wisp of a woman brought it out in him. He needed to be careful or he might let his guard down and that would be dangerous for everyone. No distractions and one life for the good of many were his only rules. He couldn't let one human mean more to him than the greater good. But there was a charge between them when they touched and she was intriguing.

             Nobody had done that in a long time. 

            Sitting at the sticky orange vinyl booth, they waited on the server. Marita stared at her hands as they belonged to someone else. Her dark auburn hair hung straight and limp in front of her face like a curtain.

            "Marita, what are you so sad? I can feel your sadness as if it were my own."

            "Look, I've had more than enough to drink and need to get home. Which is probably why those thugs looked so weird. Must have been hallucinations. I've had those before."

            The short grandmotherly waitress came up, her white hair pulled into a tight bun. "What'll it be, sweetie?"

            Marita looked up and forced a small smile. "Just some fries and a soda, please."

            "Sure thing, What about you dear?"

            "Just coffee, black. Thank you." He smiled bringing a blush to her cheeks.

            "Oooh, sweetie, if I were thirty years younger." She chuckled. "I have always loved a good looking man with an accent." Winking, she left to place their order.

            Dar chuckled. One of the things he liked about late night diners were the older women harmlessly flirting, thinking he was younger like their grand kids. Wouldn't they be shocked to know he was so much older than their great grandparents?

            "Why does your husband leave you to seedy bars and late night drinking alone?" He noticed the slim gold band on her finger but the look on her face spoke of untold pain. The hopeless desolation on her face caused his heart to clench. "I'm sorry. What happened?"

            "They're dead. Gone. I have no one." Her voice barely above a whisper but Dar's preternatural hearing didn't miss a word or every nuance of her voice. Her grief flowed like a tsunami and hit him hard. Knocking the breath out of him. She must be a strong psychic. He reached into her mind with his to see if she was aware of it. He hit a wall. He pushed harder to see if it was her construct or something else. He had heard from others that it could signify finding one's mate. And if that were true it would explain so much. 

            Reaching across the table, he took Marita's small hand in his. Her hand seemed to disappear, the only thing visible was her tiny wrist. His eyes traveled up her arms, to her narrow shoulder and lingered on her slender neck where her erratic pulse teased him. And then down over her full breasts. 

            "How long ago?" His voice was soft, compelling her to open up to him. He wanted-no, needed- to take away her pain.

            "Two years." Looking into his beautiful eyes, her stomach stirred. When the touched warmth spread through her from the contact. Her cheeks heated. powerless to look away from his tender expression.

            "Uh hmm." The waitress, Martha brought the drinks and set down the bottle of ketchup. Smiling she set the basket of fries in front of Marita. "Young love is to be cherished, dearie."

            Yanking her hand back, her face turned even hotter and wished she could disappear into the booth. 

            "Shy? I understand, sweetie. But you have one fine looking beau here." She left to check on her other tables. 

            "Eat, Marita. It won't kill you." Looking up at him, her eyes swimming in tears. "Honey, they would want you to eat. Another time, I'll take you to a proper restaurant and you'll taste everything possible."

            Finishing in silence, Marita waited silently as Darconte paid the bill. Laughing with the waitress, she made change and saw her blush when he leaned down and pecked her on the cheek as he slipped her tip into her hand. What a sweet man.

            Why was he with her? She was cursed. Then warmth in his eyes made her heart speed up even if her brain said it was pity. Every touch made her hope for more. Even as she realized she'd have to push him away.