Page 7 of Dark Calling


  Keely tries her parents’ phones once more to no avail.

  “Nick?”

  He is just settling onto his uncomfortable bed. “Yeah?”

  “Why do you do it?”

  His eyebrows crinkle in confusion. “Why do I do what?”

  “This.” She lifts her hands, palms up. Let’s them drop to her lap. “Why are you protecting me? I mean, you don’t even know me.”

  This isn’t quite true. Nick has watched her for a year when she didn’t know he was looking. He knows her very well. Knows who she is. The real her. But he doesn’t say this. Instead, Nick says, “This is bigger than you, Keely. This goes beyond you. Demons are dangerous violent creatures. They are evil beings beyond this world.” He props his arm on his knee. “If there is a reason they want you dead, then we have to do everything in our power to ensure you live.”

  He shrugs. Fluffs his pillow. “I was assigned to you. They needed someone young enough to pass as a high school student because your mom was adamant you not know. I guess she was hoping you wouldn’t ever have to.”

  “You were assigned to me? What do you mean?”

  He squints. “I’m a Guardian, but I don’t go around protecting everybody. I get assignments like a body guard would. I will do anything to protect you. As your Guardian, I’ve taken an Oath to give my life to save yours. When you are no longer in need of my services, I’ll be assigned to someone else that needs me.”

  Keely feels deflated. She had been giving him such a hard time. Acting as if he were a psycho stalker when he’s willing to die for her. Even if she was nothing more than a job to him, it still touches her.

  She clears her throat. Snuggles into the pillow. It smells faintly of shampoo and faded laundry detergent. “How did my mom find you? How did she even know to look for you?”

  Nick is quiet for a moment. He lies back staring at the ceiling. Puts an arm under his head. “She wasn’t exactly new to this world. To my world, I mean. Before your dad, when she was very young, there was a guy. A White Warrior. Some of us are born Watchers, some Guardians, and some of us are special too. Anyway, she went to Michael Laszlo. He went to the Hierarchy. My father’s on the Hierarchy, he knew I was ready, and suggested me. I have impeccable records so I was selected. I created a team and we met with your mom.

  “She said that she had received several phone calls prior to your attack from someone posing as a representative of the facility she had used to conceive you. Someone saying records had been destroyed and needed to be updated. Your mom didn’t feel comfortable about giving out the personal information, but he convinced her with a story, saying it was necessary for medical purposes. She confirmed the donor number, your birthday, name, address, everything. She gave Apophis everything he needed to find you. Not long after, you were attacked.

  “She didn’t realize at the time. She hadn’t connected the dots. It wasn’t until the police made the connection to the donor company that she was able to put it together. They had kept that out of the news from what I understand. Maybe so they didn’t cause a panic. Anyway, your mom moved you guys away. She wanted to hide you. So she came here to be close to Michael. Thinking he could help keep you safe.

  “She assumed this was just a crazy serial killer. Thought she could move a few states away and everything would be all right. Then, about a year after you had moved here, things started happening. Supernatural things. Your mom was visited by a man demanding she hand you over. She recognized him even after all of these years. Recognized him as the donor she had chosen. Your house had been blessed and salted. He couldn’t come in. At least not at the time.

  “She was terrified for you. She went to Michael and explained everything she knew. Told him every detail you had given her from the attack.

  “It was fairly easy to figure out who your attacker was. The limp you described. The pale and perfect features. The cigars. Michael knew it was Apophis. The Hierarchy understood the seriousness of your situation. They sent us immediately.

  “We enrolled in West Hunt High. Lila helped me with my persona. Made me the perfect jock.” Nick smiles up at the ceiling. “Then you show up that first day and you are nothing like your mom described. Nothing like the pictures she gave us. I almost didn’t recognize you. It set the standard for the job. You proved to continually surprise us.”

  “Earlier today, you knew I’d been a cheerleader. Why did you make that comment? About me being in better shape than you thought.”

  Nick rolls to his side. Looks up at her. “I shouldn’t have said it. It was stupid. I know it doesn’t matter now, but I could have screwed everything up. I was referring to your recovery. If you hadn’t freaked out, I probably would’ve said too much and gave our ruse away.”

  “I’m sorry about that. I shouldn’t have freaked out on you.”

  Nick stares at her. He’s pretty sure this is the first time he’s ever heard her say she was sorry about anything. “It’s o.k. I’m a tough guy. You didn’t crush me too badly.” He smirks at her.

  “Well, great. Now I can rest peacefully.”

  “Speaking of which, can you flip that switch on the wall behind you? You’re not afraid of the dark are you?”

  Keely hits the switch. “No, not at all. It’s probably one of the only things I’m not afraid of.”

  “I was joking. I know you’re not scared of the dark. You probably feel more comfortable at night. Safer. Am I right?”

  Keely turns to her side. Stares out at the blackness surrounding her. “How do you know that?”

  “It’s part of you. It’s o.k. to embrace who you are. And by the way, I know there are plenty of things you aren’t scared of.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like spiders for one. What happened in Giordano’s class?”

  She bites her lip. Shivers with the memory. Rubs her palms across the blanket, her hands suddenly feeling dirty as she recalls the fleshy cover of the eerie book. “My History book turned into this other book. It was thick and heavy. Tied with leather and I think it was bound in skin.” She stops there because her voice is shaking.

  “The Demon’s Grimoire. It’s a book of spells,” he explains. “You could actually feel it? Feel the weight and texture?”

  “Yes. It was horrible. But after I threw it, it turned back into my History book.”

  “So it wasn’t an illusion. It was temporarily manifested.”

  “I guess? What’s that mean?”

  “I don’t know. It’s definitely interesting though.”

  “Well I’m so glad I’m entertaining you.”

  Nick exhales loudly. “I think you need some rest. I know I do.”

  Keely closes her eyes. Her body is exhausted, but her mind is alert and wandering. The full force of the day sneaking up on her in the dark. Her mom and the man she thought was her father are missing. Very possibly dead. Her dad isn’t her dad. Her real dad is a Demon. A monster that wants to kill her. She herself is part monster. It is all too much. She shakes uncontrollably as a sob rips from her chest.

  Nick doesn’t ask her what’s wrong. Doesn’t ask her if she’s o.k. He knows the answer to both already. He reaches up and finds her hand. Feels her flinch. Her muscles tense. He clasps her fingers firmly. This makes her cry harder, but she doesn’t pull away from him.

  It doesn’t take long for the fatigue to win. The tears slow as her eyes burn and grow heavy. Nick holds on even after her breathing becomes soft and relaxed with sleep. It feels so foreign to touch her. He spent so long watching from afar thinking he would never be this close to her. His skins soaks up her touch. Senses savoring the smoothness of her skin. She is so soft. Somehow, this is not what he expected. She has such a hard outer shell shielding her from the world. He is lost in the realization that she isn’t as strong as he perceived her to be. Not hardened. Just hiding.

  Reluctantly, he releases her hand. The street light shines through the single high window on the opposite wall, casting an orange glow above Keely. Just enough light fo
r Nick to see her. To make out the delicate features of her face. The tangle of thick wet hair draped over his pillow.

  With a sigh, he rolls, facing away from the futon with the beautiful sleeping girl. Forces his eyes shut. Ignores the rhythmic purrs of snoring. Ignores the sweet scent that is new to the air of this apartment. Ignores the strange, intense emotions stirring inside him that her presence always causes.

  ***

  The night passes by quickly. Dreamlessly. The next time Nick opens his eyes, it’s to the sun peeking through his window. The room is already stuffy. Humid thickness filling the air. His body is stiff. His joints protesting the night spent on the floor. He sits up awkwardly, looking to the empty couch. His heart leaps into his throat. It is only for a moment because the smooth melodic sound of her singing drifts from the slightly ajar bathroom door. He didn’t know she sang. Feels a moment of disappointment that there is yet another thing he hadn’t known about her. Disappointed his ears hadn’t been fortunate enough to be privy to this melody before this morning. He hops to his feet and folds the blankets. Puts them away while he awaits his turn in the bathroom. He scuffles the few feet to the kitchen. Puts a pot of coffee on. Everybody has a vice. He runs his hands over his face. Wipes the sleep from his eyes. Switches out the pot for a mug, too impatient to wait for a dose of caffeine. O.k. maybe he has more than one vice.

  Nick plops down on the futon with his steaming cup of happiness and listens as Keely’s singing ends. The shower is turned off with the squeak of a rusty faucet. He should take a look at that sometime soon.

  The coffee sits heavy in his stomach causing it to rumble. He looks longingly at the cans of beef stew peeking out of the bag on the counter. The meal he forgot to eat the night before. He snatches a few pieces of jerky from the T.V. tray next to him.

  Keely emerges from the bathroom bringing with her the scent of strawberries. Her hair is wrapped in the towel from last night. Her face is clean, free from all her usual black make-up. She wears a thin black shirt formed to her body. The feet below her too long jeans are bare. The nails are painted a soft pink. It’s quite a contrast to the black nails of her fingers. She comes to a halt seeing him awake and on the couch.

  “Shouldn’t you hurry up and get ready?”

  “Ready? For what?” He sits forward wondering what he missed.

  She gives him a blank look. Glances at the clock on the wall. It’s one of those cheap clocks that are painted gold. Some of the gold is scratched leaving dark gray streaks in the frame. Keely would like to sketch it.

  “For school,” she says.

  Nick sets his mug down and places his elbows on his knees. “I didn’t think we were going to school.”

  “Why not? It’s a school day.” She pulls the towel from her hair. The dye has faded drastically. The tangled clump falls across her back. Nick thinks she can be no prettier than she is at this very moment. He turns his attention away and sighs.

  “With everything going on, I just thought it wasn’t the best idea. I didn’t think you’d want to go anyway.”

  Keely wonders why he isn’t looking at her. Examines his face. He seems tired. His dark hair falls into his eyes, but he leaves it there. It looks soft and it’s shiny, she realizes. It reminds her of a baby’s hair. He’s cute, in that he isn’t perfect. He needs to shave. Stubble covers his chin and neck. There is a small notch in his nose giving the illusion that it isn’t exactly straight. He has scars. Small white lines by his eyebrow. One over his lip. Another at his hairline. She has scars too and wonders if he has any on the inside as well. She definitely does. Too many, in fact.

  “I want to go. I need the distraction. And you’ll be there, right?”

  Nick finally rests his eyes on her. “Yeah. Give me fifteen minutes.” He pads off to the bathroom swinging the door closed behind him.

  Once Keely hears the shower start, she applies the liner and mascara to her eyes. Tugs her brush through her hair. Digs green and black polka dotted socks out of her bag and puts her shoes on.

  She peeks in the fridge. It is a sad state. There is a half gallon of milk, a carton of eggs, a few slices of American cheese, a clear plastic container of unknowns, and half an onion. At least she thinks it’s an onion. Her stomach aches for something to fill it. Fruit and a bagel would be great right now. She looks in the cupboards. The first two are completely empty. As she opens the final two cabinets—which are filled with mismatched dishes—Nick opens the bathroom door. Steam trails out behind him. His jeans are a little big. They sag slightly below the waist of his plaid boxers. Keely’s lips part in stunned appreciation of his shirtless form. Her gaze following the nicely defined V of his oblique muscles. Trails over the six lumps of his stomach. Water drips from his dark hair. Runs down his neck. Down his chest. She blinks. Doesn’t speak.

  “I don’t really have anything. Sorry.” He rubs a towel against his hair.

  Keely recovers. Closes the cabinet door. “It’s all right. We don’t have time anyways.”

  Nick rummages through his drawers. Finds an old Superman tee shirt to put on. Asks Keely, “What are you looking for?” as he watches her search her backpack.

  “My medicine.”

  Nick ties his shoes. Knows he should keep his mouth shut, but as he hears the sound of pills rattling, he says what’s on his mind anyway. “Do you really need those?”

  “These?” Keely asks, holding up her prescription bottle.

  He nods. Pulls the leg of his jeans down over the top of his shoe.

  “My doctor prescribed them, so yeah.”

  “Your psychologist.”

  Keely pauses, lid in hand. “Yes. My psychologist.” They’re eyes are locked on each other.

  “Just hear me out. I think now that you understand what happened to you, and you have me to watch out for you, well, maybe you won’t need them anymore.”

  “So, you are speaking as someone who attended eight years of medical school? Or possibly someone with experience in diagnosing patients?” He doesn’t answer. Doesn’t think she really expects him to. “No? How about as someone with firsthand knowledge as to the inner workings of my psyche?” She pops the tiny pill into her mouth dramatically. Gulps down the end of his coffee. It tastes bitter. Mirrors how she is currently feeling.

  “You ready?” Nick asks. He snatches his keys up. Waits by the door. Keely follows him out without a word.

  They split off. Take separate cars to school. Nick is at her car before she has the chance to shut it off. Halfway through the parking lot, Lila and Bryon join them.

  “How are you today?” Bryon asks Keely quietly. Nervously, she thinks. She stops walking. Looks him in the eye.

  “If you’re asking me if I’m still mad at you, yes. I am still pissed as hell. I understand my mom, for whatever reason, didn’t want me to know. But you pretended to be my friend. My only friend. I told you things that I didn’t tell anybody else. And you probably turned around and told them,” she points to Nick and Lila, “everything I have ever said.” She pushes her hair out of her face. “I feel betrayed. I don’t know who to trust because you were that person and now…now you’re just not.” She starts walking. Nick is on her heels.

  “Keely, I didn’t pretend. I mean, yeah, I did at first. But you were cool. After a little while, I didn’t have to pretend. And I almost told you so many different times.”

  “Almost? You are judged by your actions, not your intentions, Bryon. I don’t care who signs your paychecks. If we were really friends, you would have told me. Now, I will try to get past it. Past it, not over it. But I can’t do that with you hovering over me making excuses for yourself.” She turns quickly to face Nick. “That goes for you too. Quit hovering over me. You’re in every single one of my classes. Just give me a little space, please.”

  Nick doesn’t know why this surprises him. Doesn’t understand why it stings. He winces internally as if her words burn him. “Whatever you say, Princess.” He hangs back with Bryon as Lila strides alongside Keely the
rest of the way to the school.

  Eight:

  “You shouldn’t be so hard on them,” Lila says. “They are only trying to keep you safe. And Bryon really does care about you. He feels terrible about all this.”

  “And he should. I’m not going to repeat how he lied to me for a year.”

  “He had to. It was his job. He had no idea he’d wind up liking you. You have to think about it from his perspective. I mean, I would have done the exact same thing. Our goal is to protect you, no matter what that takes. Lies, truth—it doesn’t matter.”

  “Do you even hear yourself?” Keely looks at her sideways.

  “I hear myself perfectly well. The question is do you hear me?”

  Keely thinks Lila’s trying to make a point, but she is missing it. It doesn’t really matter. She is holding firm to her side. She was the one lied to by the most important people in her life after all.

  “You’re looking a little faded, Keely,” Farah calls. “Better run down to Freak-Mart and get yourself a bottle of instant emo before we all figure out what color your hair really is.” Jocelyn, doing her side kick duties giggles beside her.

  Lila shoots them a venomous glare. Keely ducks her head and walks faster. Nick moves closer to her protectively.

  “Hey, Nick. Did Freak-Mart have a two for one sale? What happened? You used to be normal?” Farah is smiling, but her eyes are blazing with disgust.

  “Yeah, they did. Too bad you missed it, Farah,” Lila says, her voice sweet as honey. “They had some great hats to cover that stupid hair cut of yours, too.” Her lips spread into a picture worthy smile. Farah is raging; her fingers curl into stubby little freckled fists. Jocelyn has to grab her arm and pull her away.

  “You better shut your mouth before I shut it for you Lila,” Farah shouts as she’s drug into the school.