Demon, Interrupted

3

3

The click of the door closing c****d me like a gun. I lost it. My careful plans, my total composure, all shattered. Without thinking, I threw my body at the double doors and pounded, beat and kicked with my one good arm and leg.

“Hey!”

No response.

“Heeeeeeeeeeeey!” I kept screaming and pounding until I thought my vocal cords and hand must be bleeding.

The doors jerked and I stumbled forward, catching myself before I hit the floor inside.

“What? What do you want, you insolent little banshee?” The shadowy man’s volume rivaled mine.

I looked up from slightly inside the front door. At first, I couldn’t tell much except that he was angry. His brow cranked down across his eyes—blue eyes, like mine. No, not like mine. His eyes were an impossible shade of brilliant blue, much brighter than mine. I couldn’t look away. Very few times in my life had I recognized the supernatural shade of blue on a face in the crowd. Those people never scared me, but this man scared me. He was not Saint’s Kin.

His mouth crimped while we studied each other. His hair was blonde….I think. I could see streaks of light and dark brown peeking out beneath the top layer of yellow-white hair.

He came entirely too close…again. “Stop staring and get the hell out of my house.”

As he spoke, his button down shirt gaped and I saw it—the necklace, the one from the Polaroid. The crucifix with the horizontal piece bent down to look like an arrow. I was sure now. I needed to touch it to make the buzzing in my chest stop. Connection with the object was the only way to turn my powers off.

I didn’t care that it was completely inappropriate to stick my hand down a stranger’s shirt. I struck, but he was faster. My eyes never registered him moving.

“Remmy!” The strange man bellowed from a few feet away. “Remmy come here now!”

He took one step back. I took one painful step forward. The two of us cha-cha’ed into the house. The need to touch the necklace consumed me. The stinging swarm of bees in my chest was drowning out reason and common sense.

An older man with salt and pepper hair appeared out of a door off to the side of the entryway we were dancing in.

“Sir?” The one named Remmy trained his eyes on the larger man, not even glancing my way. He reminded me of a grey heron, tall, elegant, graceful. He held himself so still and straight, but you knew not to look away. He could strike in the space of a blink. And there was something else…a nagging feeling set up residence in the base of my skull.

“Remmy, get this girl out of here. Take her to the nearest bus stop or train station, or…I don’t know, give her cab fare.”

“Sir, she needs medical attention.”

How did he know? He hadn’t even looked at me. I glanced down. Which was a mistake. Looking down opened the door for pain to return full-force. Heat and agony pulsed through my body from my shoulder and knee. In the light, the swelling in my right knee was obvious through my jeans. My shoulder looked like a tiger had raked claws down my skin and I could see streaks of dried blood in several spots. The only advantage was when pain jumped to the front of the line, the buzzing need to touch the necklace died down slightly.

“Fine. Take her to the hospital.” The blonde man had no volume control and his voice echoed in the large space.

“Sir, the nearest hospital is six hours away. Dr. Ambrose will see her first thing tomorrow morning, and then Suvan or Elan can take her where she needs to go after that. Please come with me, miss?” The butler-type man was unaffected by the level of tension building around him. There was something familiar about him. I had seen him before somewhere, a distant memory, like an itch I couldn’t scratch.

I stared at him. Both men looked at me expectantly. At odds with each other, these men were polar opposites. They were dressed in a similar formal fashion, but Remmy radiated calm and control while the blonde man hummed with barely contained fury. I continued to study them, trying to unlock the puzzle piece of Remmy’s familiarity.

Remmy cleared his throat. “What is your name, miss?”

“Evangeline Lawson.”

The blonde man flinched almost imperceptibly at my response, then he turned and stormed out.

My hand automatically grasped at his departing form. I needed that necklace. My brain was on overload. Pain, buzzing, familiar strangers, it was all too much; any more and I was going to have a breakdown. He kept walking and I stayed rooted to the floor. One thing at a time. The necklace was quickly dropping to the bottom of the risk-reward list.

“Come with me, Miss Lawson.” Remmy offered me his elbow. The man and the necklace disappeared down the hall. I could figure out how to convince him to let me touch it, after healing and figuring out who this tall elegant man was. The intensity of the buzzing would last a while longer. I rubbed at my chest.

I turned to the great grey heron; his elbow remained outstretched so he could lead me into the house. Common sense said leave. My Saint’s powers said stay. Why were my powers always at war with everything else? It was difficult to choose the winning side. Both sets of instincts had saved my life in the past.

Remmy was eerily still.

“You are, of course, allowed to do whatever you want. No one will force you to stay here. We are far from the closest city, and I don’t think it the wisest choice to go gallivanting around in your condition. You could call someone if you choose, let them know where you are, if that would make you feel more secure.”

Now that I could focus on just Remmy without the distraction of the unhinged wild man I found that even his voice was familiar. Melodic and calming, every word wrapped around me and comforted me like a warm blanket. The feelings it provoked in me were old friends reunited after a long absence. They had been a part of my early childhood but I couldn’t get anything more specific than that.

His words were true. I traveled through the isolated and barren wasteland to get here. I had no one to call. I debated making something up, leaving a message for myself on my machine in Alabama to make them think someone might come looking for me, but it felt like a lot of effort. I didn’t feel especially threatened at the moment. I wanted to keep Remmy talking to see if it could dislodge the memory that would tell me who he was.

“How did the house appear out of thin air?”

He started talking before I finished my question. “The house has always been here. Here as in Dade county of Oklahoma. It was very dark out when you arrived, you must have simply not seen the house.”

I narrowed my eyes. I wasn’t an i***t. The full moon wouldn’t have allowed me to miss a house this large out in the middle of nowhere. The house wasn’t there and then simply appeared out of thin air.

The thought of the supernatural didn’t bother me. I was proof that not everything was what it seemed. My grandmother had briefly educated me on other supernatural forces. She said even I was capable of more than locating objects. A complete supernatural education should have been mine, but They robbed me of that. These two men knew what I was and didn’t balk. The thought of being able to fill in the gaps in my knowledge and my powers should count for something. I still couldn’t put my finger on it, but deep in my bones I knew this man in front of me was safe. Nothing about him set off my alarms; quite the opposite.

“I know it may not mean much to you, but I give you my word, no harm will come to you while you are under this roof,” Remmy reassured, echoing my own thoughts and conveniently steering me off the topic of the disappearing, reappearing house.

No one was trying to hurt me, but I was being pushed to stay. I needed to touch the necklace. I added trust for my grandmother into the equation. Shelter plus medicine, plus food, minus fear, plus grandmother, equals stay? Go? This was an opportunity. With a deep breath, the decision was clear, staying was the smart choice for survival and sanity…and maybe more.

“Okay. I’ll stay,” I said, and then added “thank you.”

“It would be wise to take my arm and allow me to escort you.” He put his elbow closer to me.

“I’ll follow you.” I gestured in front of myself. The contact didn’t bother me as much as the invasion of personal space. Remmy smiled at me and I felt genuine warmth. He walked a few steps ahead. The immediate understanding and compliance thawed some of my cynicism.

“Third floor, west wing,” echoed in the entryway out of nowhere.

I looked around to see where the command had come from. The large blonde man stood in the door Remmy had come from earlier. He glared at me before he went inside the room and slammed the door, cutting through all the comfort Remmy had provided like a knife.

Moving forward again, I took the chance to look at the inside of the house. The tremendous space soared up and up, the entire height of the building. A three-story entryway. Several doors led off the space including the one I knew contained the blonde man.

“What is his name?” I nodded my head at the closed door.

Remmy slowed. “Adrien Durand. You should refer to him as Mr. Durand.”

We continued walking slowly. Remmy pretended not to notice but I wasn’t fooled. This man missed nothing. I took inventory of the space, using that as my excuse to go slow, not my crippling injuries. I despised weakness and being physically compromised. Floors of light brown stone with veins of chocolate brown and gold complimented the rich buff color of the hand-plastered walls. My eyes trailed back up to the ceiling. I could see the faint outlines of a fresco covering the entire space, but I couldn’t make out the details.

All the doors and woodwork were deep mahogany. Each space was darker and richer than the last as we walked into what appeared to be the heart of the house, a space connecting all the doors and several long hallways.

Stopping at the foot of a massive staircase, Remmy turned to look at me.

“I will let you traverse these stairs should you wish it, but we must go all the way to the top and I fear it will only serve to aggravate your condition.” He glanced at my swollen knee. “As we don’t have an elevator, I would prefer to carry you.”

The thought of being carried like a baby made my insides retch. I started regretting my decision to stay, then stopped. This was the right decision. I could do this.

“I’ll walk.” I grabbed the railing and as soon as I bent my bad knee to take the first step, hot searing pain shot up into my hip. I let out a cry. Remmy shuttled over and grabbed my arm.

“No. I’ve got it.” I made a dignified attempt to jerk my arm away. He remained, holding tight to me, but didn’t interfere when I continued. The next step wasn’t so bad. My good leg had no problem finding the next step, but my swollen knee wasn’t having anything to do with bearing my weight.

It took twelve steps to reach the first landing. From here I could see that the staircase took a 180-degree turn and continued upward twelve more steps before we cleared the first floor. Two more floors after that. I bit the inside of my cheek to focus on a pain other than my knee and trudged up the stairs.

By the time we reached the top, blood coated the inside of my mouth. I barely kept the tears from spilling out. Whimpering sounds escaped my mouth during the last flight of stairs. Neither of us commented on the fact that by the time we reached the top, Remmy was bearing so much of my weight he might as well have carried me.

I was deposited in a large bedroom after Remmy informed me he would find some food and a change of clothes. A four-poster canopy bed dominated an entire wall. The space was tremendous and dark. The paneled walls, the deep red carpet, the curtains, the bedspread—everything ate the light. The combination of colors and fabrics felt like being trapped in a decadent coffin. I turned on all the lamps, but their light was immediately absorbed into the somber surfaces.

Even with pain fogging my brain on the way up the stairs, I cataloged as much as I could: the number of hallways, where the windows were, doors that could possibly be used as exits. Like a Boy Scout, I would always be prepared. I limped a small circle inside the room and performed the same inspection. All the windows opened and looked out onto a stone driveway. The bedroom door locked from the inside. Old habits demanded I formulate a solid exit plan, but ideas simply wouldn’t stick. I blamed exhaustion.

A light knock came before Remmy entered. He sounded like he was hissing at something in the hall. The outline of two bodies hovered behind him. He shut the door before I could get a better look.

“Who is in the hallway?” I asked as Remmy approached me with a pile of folded clothes in one hand and a small silver tray in the other.

“No one you should concern yourself with, miss. Here are some clothes for you to…” The door burst open so suddenly that it startled both of us. Two men tumbled to the floor. I jumped across the room away from the intruders, a weak dose of adrenaline supplying the energy.

“No one? C’mon now Remmy, we aren’t no one.” A man stood up and brushed his hands down his pants.

Then the other chimed in from the floor. “You wound me old man,” he said, clutching at his chest and rolling in mock injury.

My eyes strained to focus while my brain assessed whether or not these men were a threat. One was smiling, and they were both joking with Remmy. Not a threat. My heart rate slowed and I exhaled. My eyes bounced back and forth between the two men. Hair, skin, height, weight…I couldn’t find a single detail different except for the clothes they wore. Identical twins.

“You’re twins,” I whispered.

“Ding Ding Ding! Someone get this lady a prize.” The man in the green t-shirt walked over with a smile on his face.

“Her powers of observation are truly amazing,” the other one, in a white t-shirt, agreed mockingly but stayed beside Remmy.

Their sarcasm cut through my stupor, but before I could respond, Remmy set down the clothes and the tray and corralled the men toward the door.

“At least introduce us, Remmy.” Green t-shirt ducked under the confining arm and extended his hand.

“Hi I’m Elan.” I hesitated but grasped his hand.

“I’m Suvan.” White t-shirt escaped and also extended a hand.

They were young men, in their early twenties, if I had to guess. Tall, lean muscled, built more like swimmers instead of a pro-wrestler, like the hulking shadow-man, Adrien. Short dark hair shadowed light caramel colored skin. Their eyes were a very intense sky blue, lighter than mine, but still very striking. Were they like me? Were they Saint’s Kin? All the descendants of all the saints have striking blue eyes. The stronger their power the bolder their eyes would be. My instincts said yes, they were Saint’s Kin. I didn’t feel the same fear I felt with Adrien. Were they here for protection and help like me?

“Your eyes,” slipped from my mouth. My fatigue wreaked havoc on my brain-to-mouth filter. Suvan wrinkled his brow and studied me for a moment.

“You’re not one, are you? Your eyes are brown,” he said finally.

My hands flew to my face. “No. No they aren’t, these are contacts.” I hastily popped one out, poking myself in the eye and making it water. I looked back up at the pair of them with one brown eye and one blue eye.

“Wow,” I think it was Elan. “She must be pretty powerful, eh Remmy?”

“You believe me? You know what I am?” Everything inside me screamed friend, ally! I spent years dreaming of talking to another Saint’s Kin. In the space of one second it was coming true. My breath hitched, and I felt a huge smile take up permanent residence on my face. I swallowed, trying to suppress the happiness flowing onto my features. Years of programming dictated that I control all my emotions, not the other way around. Plus I didn’t know anything for sure. I didn’t know them.

There was a reason I never approached another blue-eyed person. Fear of exposure. This situation was no different. They might know what I was, but not what I was capable of. I knew enough to know my lineage was one of the most powerful and sought after.

“OUT!” Remmy pointed to the door.

Elan and Suvan smiled, unaffected by the enraged Remmy. “We will see you later.” Suvan winked. They turned and sauntered out of the room. I suspected they walked extra slow to aggravate him.

Remmy took a deep breath and focused on me, looking tired for the first time in this long night. “I could not find anything that would fit you, miss, so I did the best I could to procure you a change of clothes. If you leave your current clothing by the door, I will see it laundered, mended, and returned to you in the morning. There is a small plate on the bedside table. As we do not know what the doctor will do for you tomorrow, I thought it best to have a light meal.” He walked to a door on the far side of the room. “The bathroom is through here. It is fully stocked but should you find you need anything…” He walked to a telephone on the wall next to the door that led out into the hallway “…you can use this phone. Simply dial star one, and a staff member will attend you.” He walked out into the hallway to leave, then turned back. “One last thing, miss.” He paused, “I of course do not wish to tell you what to do, but may I recommend you take a quick and cool shower. Hot water will only serve to increase the swelling in your leg. I have included some medication on the tray to help with the swelling. If your condition worsens please alert me immediately.”

I barely considerd it before asking “Remmy, why are you familiar to me?”

One corner of his mouth quirked up. “Try to get some rest,” he said before turning and leaving.

“Thank you,” I told a closed door.

I sat on the edge of the bed in silence. This felt like the twilight zone. I didn’t have to hide my heritage. Suddenly everyone knew my best kept secret, and didn’t care. There were at least two other people here who could be like me. Were there more lurking in the hallway somewhere? What role did Adrien and Remmy play in their lives? They didn’t appear to be tortured, or trapped here. If they were being used for their gifts, they certainly didn’t mind.

Remmy, although stuffy, gave the impression that he genuinely cared for my health and well-being. The only other person who’d done that was my grandmother. I could barely recall the last time someone cooked a meal for me or did my laundry. Plus, there was something inside me very accustomed to him. The muscles in my shoulders and back relaxed, and the tension I had been carrying for days streamed out like air from a tire. I thanked my grandmother for leading me here. I shouldn’t have doubted her.

The one person I needed to get close to, Adrien, felt like my enemy. I needed that necklace. The distraction of everyone in the room had kept me from focusing on the vibration in my chest, but silence brought it to the forefront. I wished Remmy or even one of the twins owned the necklace. I could rest tonight and deal with getting close to Adrien tomorrow.

I hobbled into the bathroom and flipped on the light. The bathroom was just as big as the bedroom but the color palette blinded me. I squinted past the strobe-light effect to see white marble clinging to any surface that would hold still. Undressing, I watched clumps of dirt and dust rain down on the pristine floor. I tried my best to keep it contained.

I took Remmy’s advice and kept the shower short and cool. My knee did have a large, nasty gash on it and no longer resembled a knee. I doubted I could get back into my dirty jeans, even if I wanted to. My shoulder fared better. It was scratched up and bruised but wasn’t swelling. Feeling and function were returning.

Changing clothes was a challenge. Balancing on one leg to put the men’s pajama pants on wasn’t an option. I shimmied into them from flat on the ground. The waist and the cuffs were rolled to make them fit, before swimming into a white t-shirt. I followed instructions like a good little house guest and gathered up my dirty clothes and placed them in the hallway by the door.

My appetite roared to life when I spotted the dry toast and fresh fruit. I barely tasted the food before it plunked into my hollow stomach. I swallowed the brown pills stamped “Advil” with a glass of water and climbed into the colossal bed.

I would get my hands on that necklace tomorrow. The last time I’d failed to touch an object I was searching for, it had taken four months before the buzzing faded and finally stopped. Four months of being sure I would go insane. I couldn’t endure that again. One day at a time. First the necklace.

I closed my eyes, hoping the exhaustion from the past two days would override the sensation in my chest. A few hours of sleep was all I needed.